Ravensoul
by Lalaith Quetzalli
Summary: -AU to Nightingale.- Ravens are messengers and wardens, are birds of mischief, audacity and magic, they're mediators between life and death, they can be hunters or protectors; all that is needed is a choice… and sometimes that one choice may change more than the one life, it may rewrite history, destiny itself as we all know it. (Can be read Mostly as Stand Alone) Slash! Violence!
1. Hunters

So... here we are! The Book Fair, while great on its own, wasn't quite as great as I was hoping it'd be. I do hope at least some of you might be interested in buying my books (either paperback or digital) at some point. English and Spanish, I've written most of them in both languages so you get to choose! They're available in both Amazon and B&N. So please, go read! Help me earn some money with my writings (no, I don't plan on stopping writing fics any time soon, but still, it'd be nice if more people would read my original novels, the ones I'm actually getting paid for).

This AU is a tad different from the ones before, that's mostly because I ended up putting more focus on the crossover than I usually do. That's probably because I was so deeply into Teen Wolf at the time... still, I love how it turned out and hope you will too.

This one is going on the 'can mostly be read as a stand alone' because while you can probably understand it without having read any of the other fics in the series, some of the things that happen might not have the same impact unless you know who each of the characters are. On the TW front I recommend watching until at least mid-season 3. That's about all I use from canon, though some things from the remaining seasons do happen, even if not in exactly the same way (for obvious, and not-so-obvious reasons).

The fic is written completely in 3rd Person POV, it just worked better this way.

Dreamcast: Emily Browning as Nightingale, Kristin Scott Thomas as Kathryn Salani, Amanda Seyfried as Ylva, Shiloh Fernandez as Fenrir.

* * *

Ravensoul

(Alternative Universe to _Nightingale_ )

 _By: Lalaith Quetzalli_

 _Ravens are messengers and wardens, are birds of mischief, audacity and magic, they're mediators between life and death, they can be hunters or protectors; all that is needed is a choice… and sometimes that one choice may change more than the one life, it may rewrite history, destiny itself as we all know it._

 **Hunters**

The Wolf and the Raven hunt together, wing and claw, always together.

Many people thought that because he had ADHD, because he was easily distracted, that he could not focus at all; that wasn't true. It was hard, yes, but when he had a reason to do so he could not only concentrate, he was capable of such single-minded focus that he tended to see things, make connections, no one else could. Truth be told, he was a bit of a genius, even if no one else knew it; really, there was a reason why despite spending most of his time either researching the supernatural or running either after or from the latest disaster to hit their quaint little town, and hardly getting any time to eat and sleep, much less study, he was still the second best student in their year. Only surpassed by the one and only Lydia Martin. But then again she was a genius herself, so he wouldn't begrudge her her position.

Stiles noticed things, all the time. He might not think much about everything as it was happening, especially when he was busy with something else, but he noticed and a part of his mind cataloged things and saved them for future reference. He always noticed things that could be connected to the pack, no matter how simple or innocuous they might seem. He'd always known there was something… off, about Miss Blake, even when seeing Derek kissing her had punched a hole somewhere inside him, a part of him had insisted there was something off about it, about her; and it wasn't jealousy speaking! It really wasn't. Because Stiles was the kind of person who, when he loved, he loved absolutely, with no restraint, no hesitation and, most importantly, no expectations. It was how he managed to be in love with Lydia Martin for close to a decade despite the fact that she didn't even know his name. It was how he could stand before a certain prickly sourwolf, defy him when he thought it necessary and throw himself into countless dangers to keep him alive, even as he reminded Stiles there was no trust between them…

So he always knew there was something off about Miss Blake, and it wasn't like how he insisted Mr. Harris must be a monster of some kind because of the way he was always harassing Stiles, even though deep down he knew that wasn't actually the case. No, with Miss Blake Stiles's suspicions had always been completely serious; and not something he focused much on, not really, because they already had enough of a mess to deal with, what with the freaking Alpha Pack, who'd already killed Erika and later on Boyd, who were threatening everyone; and then there were the sacrifices, and it had taken forever for Stiles to make everyone understand that there was someone else doing the killing besides the Alphas. Not that he didn't understand, of course he did; it would be much easier to believe they only had one enemy at a time; but that wouldn't help, not when they were two (or six, five now? Considering the number of alphas) they needed to actually deal with.

Stiles had been toying with the idea of calling in some help for a while. He'd held back in the past, when the whole mess with the kanima and the Argents was taking place, and they all knew how that turned out. Well no, not everyone, because no one knew what had happened to Stiles exactly, in between the game and Lydia seeking him at his home. At first he hid it because he so did not want to give the old-bastard the satisfaction, to let himself become that kind of messenger. Except, he had been expecting he'd need a hell of a lot of luck to pull off that kind of lie, that the wolves would be all over him, smelling his blood, his pain, that Scott would… but no. Not Scott, not any of them. Well, Peter. Peter noticed something, but Stiles told him to focus on Derek, that Derek needed him more and, surprise surprise, Peter went.

The next time he thought about calling for help was when the Alpha Pack arrived, but he knew the others wouldn't like it. That Derek wouldn't like it. Would see Stiles calling in outside help like him saying that Derek couldn't handle it. Also, the Alphas were supposedly there only to test Derek… so Stiles held back again. And that had ended with both Erika and Boyd dead… and Stiles had no idea what the situation with Issac was anymore.

Earlier that day, that was the third moment. A part of Stiles's mind was still in a sort of high over Derek believing them, believing him, about Miss Blake being the Darach (and the Alpha had believed them, even before Scott did his nifty little trick with the mistletoe, Stiles knew that, had felt it in his bones). When Jennifer went and gloated about Cora's state, about the girl's life being in her hands… that was the straw that broke the camel's back, the drop that made the cup run over, the spark that ignited the fire (and he might be going a bit overboard in his metaphors). Stiles couldn't allow that, he couldn't allow someone, anyone, but especially not someone like Jennifer Blake, to have Cora's life in her hands, to have something like that over Derek's head.

Stiles had already made up his mind, the moment that was said, had sent a message to the number he wasn't supposed to use except for emergencies.

He didn't expect to get a response anytime soon; he particularly wasn't expecting his phone to actually ring with an incoming call (a call, not a message), a flute melody that he'd specifically assigned to the one number (even if he'd never gotten a call from that number, and therefore had never needed the ringtone before that night). He was still standing on the hospital's rooftop, his mind firing every which way as he tried to grasp the fact that Scott had just walked out on him, had actually gone and joined with an enemy… again! Hadn't he learned anything from the mess with Gerard-fucking-Argent?! No, he hadn't, because Stiles hadn't let him. Because Stiles cared so much for his friend, the closest thing he had to a brother, he wanted to protect Scott… and thus Scott had gone and made the same mistake again. Only this time he wasn't just betraying Derek, he was betraying them all, with the excuse that he was doing it to save his mom and Stiles's own dad… well. Stiles wasn't about to put his dad's life on the hands of someone he hadn't been able to truly trust for more than six months. He needed help, help from people he could actually trust. He trusted Derek, of course he did, but he had enough on his plate with Cora, so perhaps it was providential that Stiles's phone rang, with that very ringtone, in that very moment.

At the same time he answered his phone, holding it with his right hand, his other hand went to the silver-looking chain around his neck, restlessly pulling at it until he held the pendant on the end in his hand. It was a glass pendant, showing a wolf and a raven, the full moon as a background. So very beautiful… it was his anchor.

"Mischief!" A female voice called from the other end of the line. "Are you alright?"

"I…" For one moment Stiles was honestly going to lie, to say he was fine; then he clenched the pendant tight for a moment as he remembered: he didn't have to. "No, I'm not alright…"

"We'll be there in an hour Mischief." She murmured in a soothing voice. "Hang on."

He vaguely heard something in the background for an instant before the call cut off.

Stiles let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding until then, trying his best to release the tension along with it. Then he decided to be proactive. Help was coming, it would arrive soon, but in the meantime there were other things he could do… like make sure Derek did not end up in trouble with the police, again.

There was a moment, as he kept screaming at Derek to wake up, slapping his cheeks, getting no response, when Stiles actually feared Jennifer might have killed him… or worse. Because yeah, Stiles might barely be eighteen, but he knew there were things worse than death. Thankfully the sourwolf chose to wake up when the human was a heartbeat away from hysteria (and from punching him).

Derek awake, Stiles hurried to give him the cliff-notes version of what had just happened before telling him to leave, that he'd make sure the police didn't go after him.

"What about Cora?" Derek asked/demanded, right as Stiles helped him onto his feet.

"We got her out, Peter and Issac have her." Stiles informed him, doing his best to be reassuring.

"But without Jennifer we have no way to heal her." Derek practically snarled.

"Derek…" Stiles almost winced even as he said the words, but he knew they needed to be said. "I don't think she was ever going to."

It was awful, because they'd had Jennifer, they could have stopped the sacrifices, could have ensured their parents' survival right then and there, and they hadn't, because she was supposed to help Cora. Only Stiles had never truly believed she'd do that. He hadn't opposed Derek's choice because no way was he going to be the one to take hope from him, no way was he going to be responsible for Derek losing any more of his family. The thing with Peter had been bad enough, and the only reason Stiles had even done it was because he was convinced there was no other way… In any case, not believing Jennifer would keep her word didn't mean he was just going to give up on Cora, hence calling in some back-up… which he had to tell Derek about.

"I need to find Cora and Peter." The Alpha decided then.

"Yes, you do." Stiles nodded, then remembered he hadn't yet told him anything and took hold of Derek's arm to stop him.

"Stiles…" The werewolf growled quietly.

"Just a moment." Stiles let go of him right away. "Just… don't give up, okay? We'll get Cora help I… I called some friends, people I know. Who might be able to help her."

"What kind of people?" Derek's eyes narrowed, the edges going red as the alpha in him surfaced at the mention of strangers in his territory.

Stiles never got the chance to explain, because right then they could both hear loud voices and rushed footsteps, the police had arrived.

"Go!" Stiles whisper-shouted. "Go now! I'll find you."

 **xXx**

Stiles didn't stop mentally cursing for even a minute as he got questioned, first by hospital security, then by one of his father's deputies, and finally by Agent McCall (and what the hell was Scott's dick of a father doing in Beacon Hills, precisely then, anyway?!). Afterwards, because he still had some time before his friends were due to arrive (and because he couldn't stand doing nothing) he drove to the Argents' to let them know what Agent McCall had revealed to him about the name painted on the outside of the elevator's doors.

Things seemed good at first. They all got talking together, Mr. Argent asked for his help finding the right telluric current so they might track Jennifer, find his dad and Ms. McCall before they got sacrificed. Even Issac joined them! And then when he tried to join them, they refused him, on grounds that he was not only human but had no hunter skills, no special abilities; he was, for all intents and purposes, useless.

Stiles's hands clenched into fist for all of a moment, he closed his eyes tight, hiding the spark in them. A part of him really wanted to show them just how 'useless' he was… but the bigger part of him knew it was pointless. Truth was, aside from the fact that he needed to do something to save his dad, he was just fine not going with them. He didn't trust any of them. Not the Argents, not after the way each of them had tried to kill one or more of his friends at least once; and not Issac, who had never liked Stiles, never agreed with him being pack… In fact, he was quite sure that aside from Derek, and perhaps Peter (possibly Cora), no one had ever agreed with him being pack (Scott was another matter entirely, and with him taking their enemy's side, again, Stiles was in no hurry to call him 'pack').

For a moment Stiles actually considered going to the school, finding Lydia. Jennifer had tried to kill her, and the way she'd been able to find the bodies without looking for them; maybe they could find some way to use that to track down Jennifer… He changed his mind a moment later. He couldn't deal with Lydia in that moment. He'd once crushed so hard on the girl… when he believed he was the only one who could see the real her, the amazing, brilliant woman that hid behind the facade of the shallow socialité. Except that, while Lydia was definitely brilliant, she was also shallow. Stiles had done his best to be there for her when Jackson left, had comforted her, stayed by her side, did everything she asked; and the moment another handsome jock turned his attentions on her she dropped Stiles and jumped onto bed with the new guy. Never mind that said guy ended up being Aiden, an alpha werewolf, and one of those trying to kill them all!

So in the end Stiles decided that no, he couldn't deal with Lydia in that moment. Couldn't deal with school either. And as suspicious as he knew it probably would look when he didn't show up for school; considering that his dad was already missing, and he was quite sure Allison, Issac and Scott wouldn't be showing up either; he still chose not to go.

Stiles's whole body was tense, so tense, as he stood beside his jeep, just outside the Argents' place; where he'd been standing for a while, trying to make up his mind, when he felt it. He exhaled, the tension draining from his body along with his breath. He didn't even flinch when a pair of thin, delicate looking arms wound themselves around his waist; because he knew exactly who those arms belonged too.

"Hey guys…" He breathed out, embracing the newcomer back, even as his eyes went to the other newcomers.

He was no longer alone, not with four people right there with him: The person holding him was petite, with hazel eyes and short auburn hair in a bit of a bobcut (it'd been longer the last time he'd seen her), in a loose white top, dark jeans, low black boots and a black leather jacket. The other three were to a side, in variations of the same attire; except for how the taller, black-haired green-eyed, male had a zipped up leather jacket in a very dark shade of blue; while the blue-eyed, blonde-haired woman (who was both older and taller than the auburn haired girl still embracing him) was wearing a black cropped top and pale-blue skinny jeans along with her own boots and leather jacket. The final member of the group was almost four inches shorter than the other male and about eight or nine taller than the blonde (who was three or so inches taller than the auburn haired girl), with dark-brown hair, dark-hazel eyes and dressed in black from head to toe. Shocking as it might have been for all who knew him in Beacon Hills, Stiles knew them all.

He'd met the smaller girl first; in fact, for a while she was the only one he knew. The two of them had met in New York, he'd been eleven-going-on-twelve, she, newly turned fourteen. They'd met in a hospital, on the waiting room to the medical practice of the best Oncologist in the world. The patients happened to be Stiles' own mom: Claudia Stilisnki, and the girl: Silbhé Salani. In the end there was nothing the doctor could do for either of them, and even years later Stiles still had trouble understanding how his mom and Silbhé could be so accepting of it all, of the fact that they were going to die… in any case, that's how they'd met, and why she called him Mischief. It was what his mom used to call him (she asked his permission before doing it the very first time they met after her death).

In the end Silbhé didn't die, though that had ended being a much more complicated matter, which he only learned about because of the circumstances of their second meeting.

Things were awful after the passing of his mother. It was almost like he hadn't lost one parent but two, seeing how his dad was never really there. He was always either at work, getting drunk, or sleeping off the alcohol. Stiles quickly learned to make breakfast for himself, to get the coffee-pot on so his dad could have his coffee. Melissa helped him with the groceries, as he was too young to handle that, and the days she couldn't take him to school he'd walk himself there and back.

It was almost a year before Melissa apparently decided that enough was enough. He'd no idea what had happened that day exactly, but afterwards his dad stopped drinking almost completely, and he'd begun consistently having at least breakfast with Stiles, dinner too when he could manage it, taking him to school. He became his dad again, though Stiles never forgot that year. He'd already grown used to cooking, to taking care of things around the house. He knew he was a bit paranoid, wanting to control so much, but he was just so afraid of losing his father again, and to something a lot more permanent than grief…

Stiles had always been interested in mythology, it was one of the few things that truly held his interest. Scott had been the one to show him the announcement about a week long workshop. With conferences, and panels and all sorts of activities, with the leading experts in mythology around the world. The main speaker being Dr. Elliot Randolph. Though there was also a special mention about an undergrad student who would be presenting her thesis: "Gods Among Us". Stiles had read an article with a summarized version of that thesis and been fascinated by it, the idea that many (if not all) gods and various mythical beings might exist or have existed at some point, only they had never been divinities or monsters, just people with gifts.

Stiles had wanted to go, of course he did, it was late in the summer, a couple of weeks before school started again; but he couldn't even think about leaving his dad. Besides, he'd just turned fifteen back then! And then his dad told him he was taking some vacation time and they were going to Chicago for a week, to the workshop (he'd eventually learned that it was Melissa who showed him the very same add Scott had shown Stiles, and even went as far as to explaining to the Sheriff, in detail, how much Stiles liked such things, and why he'd never say it).

Of all the things he might or might not have expected from that week, learning that the undergrad student behind that article and thesis was Silbhé Salani was a shock he'd been sure at the time could never be topped. That is, until the last day of the workshop, Silbhé (who was a genius, already doing grad studies at seventeen!) had managed to convince her Aunt Kathryn and his dad to have dinner just the two of them so the two of them could do the touristy thing. It was once they left the hotel that he met Luka, Silbhé's best friend.

They had an awesome afternoon, visiting all the best places. Silbhé had researched the city to hell and back and thus knew exactly where to go, Luka had a great sense of humor, and didn't mind Stiles's quirks, neither of them did. Stiles was surprised how neither of them seemed to mind him being a third wheel (there was totally something between them, even if neither of them said it, Stiles could tell), or the fact that he was younger than both of them. And then things got freaky…

 _The sky was dark but the streetlamps were pretty good, and as they would all be returning to their respective homes the next day after lunch (and had nothing programmed for the morning) none of them were in any hurry to return to the hotel. A part of Stiles did wonder how insane it was that the adults in their lives were letting two minors out and about on their own (because he was quite sure that no one had known Luka would be there), but as he was having a lot of fun, he didn't mind it at all. Silbhé and Luka were awesome and he was really hoping they'd be able to stay in touch even after they had to leave Chicago…_

 _One moment they'd been laughing, Stiles pushing for them to find the fried goodies he could smell somewhere nearby, and then suddenly Luka froze in place. Stiles himself tripped almost at the same time and for no apparent reason._

 _A moment later there was a figure in a red hooded cloak standing in front of them, and Stiles could have sworn there was a metallic glint beneath the folds of the cloth. Funnily enough, the first through that crossed his mind was 'Red Riding Hood', he barely managed to hold back from saying it out-loud._

" _Lady Ylva?" He heard Luka asked, and a part of Stiles began wondering if he'd slipped into the Twilight dimension without noticing._

 _In the next ten minutes a man all in black arrived, Luka called him Fenrir. They warned him that someone was coming. Silbhé was extremely worried (and everyone was calling her Nightingale, instead of Silbhé), they all began talking in a mix of languages Stiles had never heard (and he knew English, Spanish, Polish and a little French!)._

" _Silbhé, is everything alright?" Stiles finally blurted out._

 _Judging by the wide eyes everyone directed his way, they'd completely forgotten he was there._

" _Who is he?" Ylva demanded, and then Stiles really was sure there was some kind of knife in her hand, a long, thin blade._

" _Mischief, he's a friend." Silbhé announced._

" _Can he be trusted?" Ylva pressed._

" _I think we're beyond any of that, my love." Fenrir murmured in a husky tone._

 _Stiles really wanted to ask what was going on exactly, but suddenly he felt it again, like a shift in the air, followed by something else, like heavy, metallic, footsteps._

" _They're here." Fenrir and Luka said at the same time._

" _We cannot stay here." Silbhé stated, taking Stiles's hand even as she spun around. "Run!"_

 _They ran. Stiles hadn't the slightest idea why they were running exactly but they did. It was Ylva's idea for them to split. They were in a place called the Gold Star Families Park. The plan was to get to Northerly Island, and hope there wouldn't be too many people there._

 _Silbhé was the one that stayed with him, while the others went each in a different direction, hoping to keep their pursuers away from the two younger members of the group._

" _What's going on?" He asked very quietly as they took a moment to rest in the Huntington Bank Pavilion. "Silbhé…"_

" _I'm sorry Mischief…" She whispered, so very, very softly._

" _Don't be sorry." He told her, kindly but firmly. "Be honest with me."_

" _Do you believe in magic?" She asked in return._

 _He didn't, not really. Not in magic, or in any higher power. How could he? It's not like anything or anyone had helped him when his mom fell sick. Then again, Silbhé had been sick too, the doctors had given up on her, and she survived…_

 _That was the day he found out that the world, the universe, was much bigger than he ever knew, and that there were more beings, good and bad, than he ever believed possible. Gods and monsters, they were all real… and Silbhé? She was Nightingale, the best-friend of Loki, Aesir Prince and God of Mischief and Lies (and Magic). She was the mortal friend of a god, and because of that, they were after her. Because mortals weren't supposed to know the truth. Ylva and Fenrir (a Valkyrie and an actual werewolf!) had fled Asgard ahead of the Einherjer to find Loki and Nightingale and warn them that they'd been found. They never expected just how fast the soldiers would be sent after them._

 _When things went wrong Stiles wasn't even surprised. They had been at some kind of Airport Museum or something. The place was closed to the public already, but it was easy enough for the two of them to slip inside to hide. It had seemed like the right place to lay low while waiting for the others to find. The problem was that the soldiers found them first._

 _Stiles wasn't sure what happened exactly. Did they see them? Or tracked their aura or something like that? He didn't even know what was possible anymore. They'd been running as fast as they could, until Silbhé unexpectedly fell, twisting her ankle. She didn't break it or anything, but still had trouble running on it. So Stiles pulled one of her arms over his shoulders and began practically pulling her along. It was his idea to hide in the old airport. It had seemed like a good plan, the place already closed to the public, close enough to where the others would be but still somewhat secure. Less so than they had hoped. The sound of glass, a lot of glass breaking, from the nearby terminal, revealed just how close their pursuers were._

 _They both jumped onto her feet instantly, only for Silbhé to half drop onto one knee almost right away. While sitting had been a relief, it had also allowed her ankle to cool down and swell up; she could no longer stand on it at all._

" _Run..." She hissed at Stiles when it became obvious she'd be going nowhere. "You have to run Mischief. Now."_

" _What…?" He couldn't believe she was saying that. "No!"_

" _You need to escape, now." She insisted. "They don't know about you yet, you can still get away. You run back to the hotel. Go home tomorrow, you will be safe."_

" _I'm not leaving you here." He refused._

" _Mischief…"_

" _I'm not leaving. No way." He inhaled sharply. "They won't find us."_

 _She certainly wasn't expecting that. There was a sudden certainty in his voice, even he didn't fully understand it. He remembered something his mom has said once, about the power of faith. He'd stopped believing in such things when his mom first got sick and then died, no amount of faith had saved her. But… he'd just found out magic was real, that so much he'd have believed to be impossible was real so… why not?_

 _The following five minutes were absolutely nerve-wracking. Especially when the Einherjer went right by their side, less than three feet from them. Neither of them spoke, Stiles just holding onto Silbhé tightly, repeating the same mantra inside his mind over and over: 'They cannot see us, they will not see us, we are safe.'. They still didn't move from their spot until Loki found them._

That was the night he discovered that other worlds and races existed, that magic was real and, most shocking: that he had magic himself. Deaton had called him a Spark, back when telling him about mountain ash, Stiles wondered if he'd even known what he was talking about…

When the others found them Loki knew Stiles had done magic, even if no one had the slightest idea how exactly. Even then, there was no time to investigate. The group went straight back to the hotel, where they pretended for Stiles's father's sake that everything was just fine. Stiles knew they would be gone before the morning.

It was until Christmas that he heard from them again. When he and his dad sat to open the gifts, there was one extra for Stiles. He pretended it had come in the mail, that he'd just forgotten about it, even though he hadn't the slightest idea where it came from, or who. Not until he opened it to find a glass pendant hanging from a chain that looked like silver. The pendant itself had inside a design of a black raven. There was also a card explaining that ravens were birds of mischief, audacity and magic; and that the necklace had every protective spell Loki and Nightingale could think of that wasn't dependent on a blood connection, it would keep him safe.

Stiles was quite sure the pendant was the only reason he survived the past year.

"Oh Mischief…" Silbhé… no, Nightingale, she'd been Nightingale ever since leaving that night, embraced him with all the strength in her delicate-looking arms (which was actually more than most would expect or even believe possible).

The best thing about Nightingale was perhaps that, with her being an empath… he didn't need to try and find the right words to express himself, she knew, she could feel everything he was feeling. And even if she didn't yet know the reasons, she still did her best to help him.

After that Christmas, Stiles had gotten a letter. Not in the mail, no, he found it on his desk one morning. It came from Nightingale, and on it she explained her story to him, all the things she'd have never been able to explain that night. She also told him that, just like he imagined, she, Loki, Fenrir and Ylva had ran that night; and they were still running, she expected they'd be running for a long time. Still, if he ever needed her, needed them, all he needed to do was call, and they'd answer. Which was exactly what had happened that day.

The embrace lasted what seemed like forever, and no time at all. Eventually Stiles relaxed enough to let go of the pendant (he hadn't even been aware that he'd been holding it in a fist). Ylva was the first to see it, to understand…

"Oh Raven…" She whispered.

Stiles just closed his eyes, knowing exactly what she was seeing.

While Nightingale called him Mischief, she was the only one allowed to do that. Insane as it might seem considering how short a time they'd truly known each other, Stiles saw Nightingale as family, an older sister, so it felt right to have her call him Mischief. The rest called him Raven. Apparently, while they'd known exactly which animal the pendant would show, they hadn't been responsible for it; that had been all Stiles. The pendant was magical in more ways than one, the glass having been enchanted from its very creation to channel his inner-self and reveal his spirit animal. What was at his very core… that had always been a Raven (mischief, audacity and magic). And thus the others called him that; much like they all called Silbhé, Nightingale.

Things had changed, that was what Ylva noticed. It wasn't that the raven was gone; more like, the raven wasn't alone anymore. A wolf had joined it, at least ten months prior. Stiles didn't actually know when it happened, exactly. So much had been going on at the time; he knew the day he noticed it though, the night he helped kill Peter and Derek became the Alpha. He'd been holding onto the pendant through almost the whole day, using it to center himself; then that night, as he laid on his bed trying to get his mind around everything that had happened, he first noticed that it had changed. He didn't tell Loki and Nightingale what happened, didn't ask why, it wasn't necessary; deep inside, he just knew.

"It'd seem that a lot more has happened than we expected, little brother." Loki murmured, seriousness underlying his mischievousness.

"You have no idea." Stiles exhaled.

And out came the whole story. From a body cut in half, found in the woods, Scott being bitten, Derek Hale… all the way to the Alpha Pack, Cora and, once again, Derek. All of them, his extended family, kept from interrupting, though not from reacting through it all. Everything from scoffs (mainly at Scott's constant abandonment of him), growls (at Peter, at Gerard, at Kate… all of the Argents really). They were also very supportive of him, not just his choice to be a part of that world, despite still insisting on being human; but also his connection to the Hales, especially Derek. Stiles knew that his father, awesome as he might be, and regardless of how well he might have taken the revelation that creatures like werewolves existed, he still would never understand the connection between Stiles and Derek. With Nightingale and the others he didn't even need to try and explain, they understood and accepted it.

"You want us to help Cora Hale." Nightingale said, straight out, once the story was told.

Stiles just nodded. He knew he wasn't being questioned, they understood. They always had and always would. And it was in that moment that Stiles understood why, regardless of how much he might care for Scott, he never imagined being in a pack with him; and while a part of him had felt it right with Derek, he still couldn't help but believe something was missing. It was them; Loki, Nightingale, Fenrir and Ylva. He'd no idea how it was even supposed to be possible, but he just knew they were all meant to be together, to be family, to be pack…

"Lets go." Loki decided.

 **xXx**

They rode on Stiles's jeep. Loki at the front with him, as he was the biggest, Nightingale in the middle on the back-seat. While the four-some had obviously used magic to get from wherever they'd been to Beacon Hills in just one hour, Stiles wasn't sure how good an idea it might be, not just because of the darach (the way she drew power from the telluric currents and poisoned the ley lines, he wasn't sure how that might affect the shadow paths Loki and Nightingale used to travel long distances); there was also the fact that he wasn't sure how good an idea it would be to just drop on the Hales, especially Derek, like that. Which was also why, once they made it to the loft, he knocked, instead of just pushing the door open as he usually did.

It was Peter who slid the metal door open; and then just stood there, staring at Stiles, and the four-some behind him. Stiles could particularly feel his reaction to Fenrir, the way the were felt and fought the need to step back. It wasn't surprising; but judging by Nightingale's tension, they really didn't have the time to explain things.

"Hey Peter." Stiles nodded at him.

"Stiles and… friends of Stiles I don't know." Peter replied in a deadpan.

"Yeah… these are Nightingale, Loki, Fenrir and Ylva." Stiles said their names calmly, like there was nothing special about them. "I told Derek I'd called in some friends to help."

"And how could your friends possibly help..." Peter pressed, tense.

He was probably sensing that everyone had power, even Stiles. And they so didn't have the time!

"Let them in Peter." Derek's voice called from inside.

"Nephew…" The older Hale began in a warning tone.

"I trust Stiles." Derek interrupted.

And that, just that, was enough to break the tension, like it had never been there. It wasn't like Peter suddenly trusted them, him, but he'd accepted Derek as not only his family but his Alpha, and was willing to believe that if Derek trusted Stiles, there must be a reason (and there was, all the times Stiles had saved the sourwolf!).

"Derek…" Stiles called going in. "I brought my friends. They can help Cora…"

As if that were some kind of cue Nightingale immediately moved ahead, standing by the bed Cora was laid on, on the opposite side from Derek, observing her carefully.

"What happened to her?" She asked the wolf softly. "Do you know?"

"She was poisoned by a darach, mistletoe." Derek informed her. "Can you really help her?"

For all answer Nightingale slipped a dainty hand inside the right inner pocket of her black leather jacket, pulling out a crystal phial. She sat beside the unconscious, restless Cora carefully, waiting for Derek to raise her, just enough to be sure the liquid inside the phial couldn't choke her. Then, when she was sure they were as ready as they could be, Nightingale uncorked the phial and tipped it against the girl's lips, letting the contents pour into her mouth slowly.

No one could miss the huge significance of everything going on. Not just Nightingale's actions, but Derek's. The fact that the Alpha wasn't asking questions about who she was, how she knew Stiles, wasn't making demands about the contents of the phial or what it would do exactly. Stiles was beyond speechless as he realized just how much Derek trusted him, not just with his own life, but with the life of his little sister, one of the two last members of his family. It made the boy feel so honored, humbled and terrified, all at the same time. But he pushed that aside, instead clasping his hands together and, focusing on his spark, he prayed for the elixir to work. It had to work, Cora had to be healed, Derek didn't deserve to lose yet another member of his family, it wasn't fair…

Cora drew in a sharp, gasping breath, a moment before Nightingale took her from Derek's arms and with strength most never got to see, pulled her across her lap and so her head would be over the edge of the bed, just in time for Cora's cough to turn into puking as she expelled what looked like a lot of black gunk. Stiles imagined it was the poison, and with the elixir acting to heal her it had to go somewhere.

It took less than fifteen seconds. Soon Cora was straightening up, taking in deep, sharp breaths. It took her a little longer to realize that she was, in fact, breathing with no problem. Then she turned around in Nightingale's arms, eyes searching for her brother, and seemingly without actually noticing whose arms she was in, in the first place. Stiles could have laughed as the girl threw herself into Derek's arms, embracing him tightly.

"Thank you…" Derek mumbled under his breath, eyes first on Nightingale, then on Stiles, without letting go of Cora.

Nightingale just tipped her head in acknowledgment, while Stiles grinned brightly. It had worked! Cora was safe, Derek still had his sister… now all they needed to do was get the 'guardians' back… and deal with their enemies.

 **xXx**

"Let me see if I get this correctly." Peter spoke up. "She," his hand pointed at Nightingale. "was born human, though she clearly isn't. Or at least not just human. She met an actual god, the god of freaking mischief of all things! At eleven, they became friends, he saved her life when she was dying of cancer. Which is how the two of you met, in New York, visiting a doctor that you hoped might help her, and your mom." His eyes were once again on Stiles. "Then you met again in Chicago, years later, where you saved her from some freaky soldiers from another world before they fled and you came back to Beacon Hills."

"Essentially." Stiles drawled.

Peter had just summarized a story that had taken them nearly a whole hour to tell, even without going into too much detail where the actual gods and the 9 Realms were concerned, in less than two minutes. It was actually a bit… anti-climactic.

"What do you mean Nightingale's not human?" Stiles blurted out suddenly, as his mind caught up with that part.

"She doesn't smell human." Peter stated as if it should be obvious.

"I am human." Nightingale stated serenely. "Though we do believe that my bond with Loki might be changing me. In the last year I've become able to use his magic."

"You don't smell human either." Cora blurted out suddenly, staring at Stiles. "Which is totally freaky because you smelled just fine yesterday. What happened?"

"Oh… I… let go?" Stiles couldn't help but make it sound like a question.

"Let go?" None of the Hales understood what that was supposed to mean.

"I have magic." Stiles elaborated. "I think I've always had it, though as long as I didn't call on it, it remained dormant. I used it to keep Nightingale and I invisible to the Einherjer, and then not for the longest time. Even when Scott was bitten. I might've tapped into it a little bit, considering the insane amount of luck we all kept having; and the way things ended up with Grandpa Argent that night." He chuckled darkly, mostly to himself. "Deaton called me a Spark once, when he was teaching me how to use the mountain ash. What I did at the Jungle that night? I don't know if he was afraid to scare me if he told me the truth about the power inside me, if he really couldn't, maybe he still cannot see it, maybe he just really enjoys being way too cryptic and entirely unhelpful or…"

"Or he sought to muffle your own potential by telling you you're less than you actually are." Loki finished for him, a hint of steel in his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Derek demanded, hackles rising at even the hint of anything against one of his pack (and whatever stupid decisions Scott might make, Derek would continue seeing Stiles as pack until he chose differently).

"I've never trusted Deaton." Stiles's words sounded like a non-sequitur, but they all listened anyway. "I mean, he was supposed to be your family's Emissary, right? And from what I've researched, emissaries are important, they keep a pack connected to humanity, they're also messengers, ambassadors, both where it comes to humans, and with others in the supernatural world. Like hunters. So how the hell did he not know about Kate Argent? About what she was planning? I mean, with all the people she either bribed, coerced or whatever into helping her, how the hell did he not know the kind of danger you were all in?" He shook his head. "And putting that aside for a moment. Why didn't he help you once it was all over? I know you might not have known about him… my research shows that sometimes emissaries are only known to the alpha and one or two other members of the pack. So you might not have known who he was, but he certainly knew you. So why didn't he offer you help? Why didn't he offer Laura help? All those years ago, and when you came back? That's not how an emissary is supposed to be."

"You have a theory." Peter wasn't asking.

"Deaton told me once he was a druid, that it means 'wise oak', like darach means 'dark oak'." Stiles shook his head, that wasn't the important part. "He said druids are supposed to keep balance above everything. I remember, after I realized what he had been, to your mom, I asked him how he made the choice. I mean, how can anyone be a keeper of balance, and a helper to a pack of wolves at the same time? It must be hell to keep your priorities straight, right?"

He didn't need to say anything more, suddenly all three Hales were growling low in their throats. It truly had never occurred to them, all that Stiles had said, it had never crossed their minds and yet… all of a sudden Peter was all for ripping Deaton a new one.

"Stop." Fenrir didn't raise his voice, he didn't need to, the power behind it was enough to make them all freeze where they stood. "As interesting as Raven's theories might be, and as much as you might want to go find answers, I believe we have other priorities right now."

"The Sheriff…" Cora murmured, turning towards Stiles. "Wait, did you call him Raven?"

"It's what most of us call him, except Nightingale." Loki shrugged. "It's his soul-animal. Raven, a bird of mischief, audacity and magic…"

"One who hunts with wolves." Peter added, brow arched. "Interesting."

Stiles had to fight not to reach for his pendant right then, the last thing he needed was someone questioning what it was about.

"What are you?" Derek asked right then, looking straight at Fenrir. "You feel…"

He couldn't even find the right words for it, but the sub-vocal whine that came from his throat, a sound that was all-wolf… that told its own story.

"I am in many ways, like you, a shapeshifter, a werewolf." Fenrir answered. "Same as an alpha except… except for the fact that one cannot be Alpha, Beta or Omega when you're the very last of your species."

"What?!" None of the Hales were expecting that.

"I am the last of my people." Fenrir explained. "I know that because I can sense it, at my very core. I wouldn't say I'm alone, how can I be when I have the family I do? But there's no one left of my own race. I came to be in Asgard, somehow, when I was very young. I'm not even clear on how that happened exactly. Loki found me when I was, for all intents and purposes, a baby, a cub, all wolf and no man back then. He helped me, looked after me, helped me find myself again. Some things I did right, others not so much. The first time I tried to court a lady things went so wrong I ended up trapped in the deepest corner of the darkest forest in Asgard." For a moment it looked like he wanted to say something in particular, but in the end he moved on. "Ylva got me out when she heard that Odin was sending Einherjer after Loki and his Nightingale and we went looking for them. Bottom-line, I'm almost like you, only from another planet. You can feel my wolf, sense the power in me, and your own wolf responds to it; it also knows I have no intent to exert any sort of dominance over you, or your pack, so you all have nothing to worry about."

"That doesn't worry me." Derek blurted out. "That's not… my wolf… you feel…"

"Safe." Cora interjected. "You feel safe."

"You are safe with me." Fenrir nodded. "I… all of us, we'll do our best to help you. And for that we need to go and take care of your trouble now."

Yes, they did.

It was curious how just two hours earlier Derek had been one step from surrendering, almost resigned to his fate (which he'd no doubt would have consisted of pain, grief, and sooner or later a horrible death, because no way was he going to join the Alpha Pack, ever); his only hope being to find some way to make sure his sister would be safe beforehand. Stiles's friends had not only saved his sister, with them there he had hope for the first time since first seeing that symbol clawed on his burned house's door, that things might just go well for them. And it was all thanks to Stiles. Stiles…

"Der… Derek?!"

Derek blinked, only then realizing that he'd spaced out completely, while staring at said amber-eyed magic-wielding human… they'd never actually said what Stiles was supposed to be, if Spark wasn't the right term for him. In any case, the Alpha almost blushed when realizing he'd been staring, and that everyone was looking at him right then.

"Lets go." Was all he said.

He really did not need someone asking why he'd been staring exactly. Knowing Cora she would be doing exactly that sooner or later, and Peter was liable to do a lot worse than ask; Derek could only hope it wouldn't be in front of Stiles and his friends (his family), the last thing he needed was for his m… friend, to feel horrified or something and decide that Derek wasn't worth it anymore (maybe never had been).

"How are we going to find the Sheriff?" Thankfully Cora decided to focus on the matter at hand.

"If he cannot be tracked by smell, which I imagine he cannot, otherwise you would have found him already." Ylva stated evenly. "Loki and Nightingale can track him down magically through his familial connection to Raven."

"Then lets go." Peter nodded, standing up. "If we manage to deal with all this before the lunar eclipse tomorrow we just might live to tell this tale."

 **xXx**

Stiles, Cora and Derek were the ones to slip into the cellar under the Nemeton's roots to free the 'guardians'; with Stiles grasping Derek's hand briefly right before they went in.

"Stiles!" Sheriff Noah Stilinski cried out, being the first to see them.

"Stiles?!" Mrs. McCall called, not expecting that. "You're here…? How are you here?" Then she noticed his company. "Where is Scott?"

"Probably still with the alphas." Stiles said, in a way-too-blasé tone as he worked on cutting the roped securing his dad with a knife Nightingale had handed him before going in.

"What?!" Melissa hardly even reacted when Derek used his claws to cut her own ropes. "Why? Why would he do that?"

"Your guess is as good as mine Ms. M." Stiles tried his best to smile at her.

"It's not the first time the little brat switches sides when the going gets tough." Peter announced from the entrance to the cellar.

"Peter, aren't you supposed to be standing guard?" Derek rolled his eyes, not knowing why he even bothered.

"Your friends are doing a good enough job at that." Peter shrugged.

Cora finished cutting through the ropes securing Chris Argent right then. She thought it stupid that the darach hadn't soaked them in wolfsbane or something, it made their job almost too easy. All the same, perhaps they were bound for some luck… or, or maybe it was Stiles's work. She hadn't considered until then but, maybe.

"What about Allison?" The hunter asked then.

"No idea." Stiles shrugged carelessly. "Haven't seen her or Issac since you all left me outside your place."

"Stiles…" Chris began, obviously noticing the boy hadn't liked that.

"Look, I don't care anyway." Stiles cut him off. "You believed me to be useless, and perhaps even had good reason for that. Too long I've allowed others to take the lead. Content to just follow, to be the research-guru, the token human. Letting them believe I was all too fragile. Then my dad got kidnapped…"

"What are you saying…?" He began.

He never got the chance to finish the question, as right then they all heard it, like a bird-call. The parents thought nothing of it, but it was enough to make Stiles snap to attention, the three Hales following suit.

"That was Nightingale." Stiles informed them. "Someone's coming."

Another bird-like trill; which Peter suddenly recognized as coming from some kind of flute.

"The darach is coming." Stiles translated the signal.

"We need to run." Melissa stated, frightened.

"No time." Peter denied.

"And I'm not risking her coming after you all again, or someone else, later on." Stiles added for good measure. "No, we're finishing this, and we're doing it now."

He practically stalked out of the cellar, Peter stepping aside to let him pass. They might only have known about the boy's magic for a couple of hours, but in that moment they could all feel it. The spark, it smelled almost like the air just before a lightning storm began… It wasn't that they were afraid. The wolves, they could all sense that, as big and wild as the power had the potential of being, it would never be used against them.

Outside the cellar they found the others waiting. One couple on each side, watching attentively yet none of them interfering as Stiles went to block the darach's path…

"Well, well, well, this is a surprise." The darach, Jennifer Blake, stated.

She would never admit her shock at seeing not just Stiles, but the Hales, the humans who were supposed to become her last sacrifices, all standing there. No one was supposed to be able to find the Nemeton! How then had they?

Stiles could tell that Jennifer really didn't seem to know what to do. He decided he'd rather not give her the chance to make a plan. He wasn't the kind for long, drawn-out battles, that had never been his style. And while he certainly knew self-defense, and his way around guns (his dad was the sheriff, of course he knew!); he didn't actually have a gun on him at the moment and he knew better than to get that close to someone with the kind of dark power Jennifer possessed. Then again, it's not like those were his only options, not anymore. So instead he held onto his glass pendant with one hand, while extending the other downwards, palm open. It wasn't necessary exactly, just a focus. The kind of magic he possessed… it wasn't about words, or herbs, or stones, or anything like that. It was about intent, the strength of his will, of his faith… in simple terms, all he needed to do was believe… and so he did.

He believed that the darach's power couldn't endure. That it wasn't meant to. He sent his power, his will, straight into the ground, the earth, the roots of the Nemeton, to which she had sacrificed all those innocents; to which she'd intended to sacrifice their parents! The surprise came when he sensed the Nemeton answering, probing at him. There was no actual question, there couldn't have been, it's not like the tree was truly sentient. But still, he got the gist of it, the Nemeton wanted to know why he wished to undo what had been achieved through the sacrifices.

*Because she's unworthy of all she was gained, because she gained it by spilling the blood of innocents, by destroying lives that weren't hers to give.* Stiles sent back.

It happened from one moment to the next: They were standing there, Jennifer called on her power to attack Stiles, somehow, and nothing happened. A moment later mist seemed to envelope them all, and from it, twelve figures emerged.

"Heather…" Stiles breathed out.

And it wasn't just his old friend. Emily, the boy from the pool, Mr. Harris, Mr. Westover, Tara… every single person Jennifer had sacrificed was there… or more like, their souls.

"What's going on?!" Jennifer demanded, voice breaking a bit in doubt.

"You seem to know a lot Jennifer… or should I call you Julia?" Stiles called evenly. "Tell me, what is the Mother's punishment for offering that which isn't yours to give? The sacrifices, you offered lives that weren't yours to give. That's why they're here now. The very people you slaughtered will judge you, and the Mother will give her punishment."

He meant, of course, Mother Earth. The funny thing was, Stiles wasn't even sure how he knew all that. He'd asked for Jennifer's power to be taken away because she wasn't worthy of it, because it wasn't right that she benefit of the pain and suffering she'd caused to others; he never expected the way things actually went.

The rest of the confrontation went rather fast. Except it wasn't truly a confrontation. Each of the souls of those sacrificed emitted their judgment, all found her guilty. The moment the last of them finished speaking the word, the earth beneath their feet shook and then Jennifer was screaming.

Everyone in the clearing could feel it, as the power was pulled from her. The dead wouldn't live again, that wasn't possible, but they'd be at peace. The moment it was all said and done the souls nodded at Stiles before vanishing into the mists. Heather taking a moment to wave at Stiles before doing the same.

Stiles didn't even realize it when he fell. He was so exhausted and not even sure why exactly.

"Stiles?!" Derek and Cora cried out at the same time.

"Beware!" Nightingale was the first to sense the shift in the air.

Jennifer had been on her knees, right where she collapsed after losing everything the sacrifices had given her: youth, beauty, strength, healing, all of it. She no longer looked like Jennifer Blake but like a disfigured, not-quite-human form. No one was really expecting her to get back on her feet and throw herself at Stiles, hands poised as if they were claws and she wanted to bury her nails in the human boy.

She never got to give more than two steps though. Before anyone else could fully react, Peter already had. They were all left just watching as the body of the once emissary dropped to the ground, throat slashed open, Peter standing behind, clawed hand still poised. Stiles was the first to look straight at him, cocking his head to a side as he spoke.

"Thank you, Peter." He nodded.

He would never forget the past, all the bad things that had happened; the things each of them had done… but maybe they could both forgive, move on, be a pack?

"My pleasure kid, truly." Peter grinned with way too many teeth.

Derek just rolled his eyes as he went and helped Stiles stand. Peter would never change, but as he'd come to realize, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Really, as long as he never went mad and tried to kill them again, Derek could certainly live with it (and there was no reason for that to happen… Derek, as their alpha, wouldn't allow it).

"Now what?" The Sheriff asked after what, to him, felt like a very long silence.

"Now we go deal with a few alphas." Peter stated with a predatory smile.

And with Scott… no one said it out-loud, but there was no doubt that at least a few of them were thinking it. It wasn't going to be pretty…

 **xXx**

It took a great deal of effort to get the parents to let them go alone. In the end Noah had only gone after getting his son to swear up and down that he'd be careful, call as soon as they were done and to make sure that Agent McCall and whoever might have arrived to town with him would not end up complicating things further. Chris Argent offered to go with him and use his own position and credentials as security consultant and weapon's dealer (which were actually legal and all) to help keep them all away from the distillery. Mrs. McCall went home, promising to be ready in case any of them needed medical attention (none of them had the heart to tell her no way); also, Stiles would never be able to forget the way her eyes shone with un-fallen tears as she embraced him and whispered: 'Please, don't hurt my boy…'. Because she knew, she knew that Scott had gone and done something idiotic, that the others wouldn't care to help him, and all she could hope for was that despite how bad a friend Scott had been over the past years, that Stiles would still care enough for their friendship to save him, both from the alphas and from the Hales (and his new friends).

Truth was Stiles didn't much care about Scott anymore, he hadn't for a while. For so long, pretty much as long as he could remember actually, he and Scott had been best friends. Stiles was there when Raphael McCall abandoned them, leaving young Scott fearing it was something he did; Scott was there when Claudia Stilinski died, keeping Stiles from going nuts over his father's drinking. All through elementary, junior high and half of high school they were each other's only friend… and then Scott was bitten by Peter and everything changed.

Surprisingly enough, Stiles wasn't blaming Peter. He'd come to realize (he'd never understand, but then again, he wasn't a wolf, so that was okay) that Peter had been beyond insane at the time, due to the fire, the loss of most of his pack, the abandonment of the remaining members, and whatever it was that nurse had done that had brought him out of his catatonia after all those years. It was why he'd killed Laura. And then of course, being an alpha had imprinted such a desire, a need for pack, he bit the first person he came across, which ended being Scott (and his nurse). It was probably enough of a miracle that he hadn't done the same to Stiles himself, his dad, the deputies, and whoever else that might have been there that night.

The biting hadn't been the problem though. Even when Scott didn't believe him at first, when Stiles deduced what had happened and what it all meant. Stiles was still there. He helped Scott learn control, kept him from hurting the girl he liked, or getting killed by her family. And even when Scott dumped him, pretty much forgot all about him, in favor of said girl, and all the friends he suddenly made as he became a lacrosse star and popular… Stiles didn't give up on him. He was a bit jealous of course, but he was also happy that Scott was finally getting a chance at everything he'd always wanted. Stiles just didn't want to be left behind.

Except he was. Scott left him behind. Time and again. At first Stiles refused to believe it. Refused to accept that his once best friend, his almost brother, could be like that. After the mess with Gerard he'd come to accept the truth. It wasn't even that Scott hadn't gone save him. That much Stiles could understand. With everything going on with the kanima, and Gerard… Stiles got it. It was why he had gone straight home rather than look for Scott, once Gerard let him go. He hadn't wanted to make his friend feel bad for not having been there. No, the problem that night was learning that Scott had made a plan for dealing with Gerard, and had told Stiles nothing about it. He'd trusted Deaton, the vet, the so-called druid, the 'retired' emissary; the man who seemed to be pathologically incapable of giving a straight answer to even the simplest of questions. That was what broke Stiles's faith in him.

Stiles wasn't really surprised when Scott barely even tried to hang out with him during the summer. He gave his dad the excuse that Scott was doing summer-school and picking extra shifts with Deaton to buy himself a bike or whatever… he was sure his dad had stopped believing the excuses quite fast, but he also understood that Stiles wasn't ready to say out-loud what he'd already accepted inside: that he no longer had a best friend. Could he even say they had been best friends? Because, wasn't the kind of friendship that you shared with someone you call that, something that was supposed to endure? To last through thick and thin? Weren't best friends supposed to be thus forever?

In any case, it's not like he'd been sitting on his butt doing nothing all summer. Stiles had decided that things were unlikely to stay peaceful for long, and thus he'd gone back to studying self-defense. Mostly through video tutorials online. He'd long since surpassed everything his dad's friends were willing to teach him, and he just knew he didn't have the discipline for actual martial arts classes so… Also, he'd always had a gift for self-teaching. On that same vein, while Stiles was too young to purchase a handgun himself, it was perfectly legal for him to use one, and he'd convinced his dad to take him to the range for practice every other week throughout the summer. There was even a gun that was technically his (a Glock 9mm, had belonged to his dad), though he didn't actually have a carrying permit yet, and thus only used it on the range and only pulled it out at home to clean it.

As expected, the Alphas (or the remaining ones, since Ennis was dead) were at the distillery, and Scott was with them. The group had just arrived and had just made a plan on how to handle things (Stiles and the Hales would be going in front and center, with Stiles's friends taking to the roof and slipping inside unnoticed, magic being more than enough to occlude them from even Deucalion's heightened senses).

Stiles's phone began ringing right as Peter and Cora pushed the doors into the building open, all eyes turning towards the teenager as he watched the screen of his phone, then slipped it once again into the back pocket of his jeans.

"I suppose I don't need to answer that." He said, eyes going straight for Scott.

"Stiles man, where have you been?" Scott demanded, asking as if it were just the two of them in the warehouse. "Lydia called me, as did Deaton, no one could find you…" His eyes widened as he apparently realized Stiles wasn't alone. "Why are you doing here? And with them? I thought Cora was sick!"

"Yes she was, and I'm here, with them, because this time I've made a plan of my own." Stiles answered in a completely emotionless tone.

Scott cocked his head to a side, as if trying to deduce something from Stiles's every breath and beat of his heart. It was pointless.

"Stiles…" He began, finally understanding the words. "You know I had to do this… Deucalion… it's the only way to save our parents."

"I know you think you have to do this." "Stiles said in return. "And what does it say about you Scott, that every time the going gets tough you'd rather team-up with our enemies than trust your friends, your pack?"

"They're not my pack." Scott hissed, as if the very idea offended them.

"Fair enough." Stiles shrugged. "Though you probably should know, they're mine."

"You're not a wolf!" Scott snarled. "You don't have a pack!"

Peter actually laughed at that, uproariously.

"Oh Selene…" He exhaled eventually. "I definitely turned the wrong boy that night."

Stiles rolled his eyes. It wasn't the first time Peter implied, or even outright said that. It didn't matter. Stiles was human and he was happy enough that way. The best part? He wasn't even hiding anymore, his magic was right there, at his fingertips.

The boy could notice from the corner of his eyes that the Alphas were becoming restless. With Kali it wasn't surprising, she seemed the 'destroy first, ask questions never' kind; the twins looked a tad nervous, which intrigued Stiles (he'd never been sure if the twins were truly evil, or just with the Alphas because it was the least of whatever evils they might have been through). As for Deucalion… he was 'looking' at Stiles, through his sightless eyes, as if he were trying to see into him. Stiles guessed he must be picking up on the changes to his scent, like the Hales had (something Scott had managed to miss, which wasn't really that surprising).

"Our parents are safe Scott." Stiles announced. "And you should really leave now."

"What…?!" Scott cried out in shock.

He looked so lost right then, just for a moment, like the boy he'd been until just a little over a year prior, rather than the werewolf he'd become… Stiles couldn't help but feel a brief surge of melancholy at the memory. At the thought of the people they'd been. It only lasted for a second really. As much as the loss of Scott's friendship might have hurt, once upon a time, he'd learned to live with it (or without it, as the case might be). He'd moved on. And it's not like he was alone. He had his friends, the ones that had been there, in the distance but never truly lost, and he even had the Hales (he had Derek, as the traitorous corner of his mind reminded him, though the main part of it still refuse to ponder on it, and on how fundamental he'd been to the change in his magical glass pendant…).

"Stiles… how…?" Scott really didn't understand what was going on.

"My dad, your mom, Chris, they're all safe now." Stiles elaborated. "You can call your mom if you don't believe me. I made her promise to go home." He sighed. "She's safe and waiting for you. And now you should really leave."

"What are you going to do?" Scott pressed.

"We're going to deal with this problem once and for all." Derek stated evenly.

"You… what? No!" Scott was in denial. "Stiles! You cannot do it! You're human!"

In the background Kali was laughing at the statement, while Deucalion continued looking curious. It was hard to tell if he was even listening at all.

"Wait! What about the darach?!" Scott suddenly remembered. "What about Miss Blake?"

"Dead." Peter announced with obvious satisfaction, looking at his own claws like there was something fascinating about them.

"What…? You killed her? But how?!" Scott clearly wasn't expecting that.

"Just go Scott!" Stiles snapped.

The way Deucalion kept 'staring' was beginning to truly make him nervous. Also, he just wanted to be done already. His dad was liable to decide he couldn't wait anymore and the last thing they needed was for him to end up putting himself in danger trying to help… again.

"Stiles…"Scott called one more time.

Stiles was about to straight out yell at his once-best-friend, when the decision was taken out of his hands completely. It didn't surprise him really, he'd known the Alphas wouldn't be content with waiting forever.

It was one of the twins, Stiles didn't even focus on them long enough to make out which of them, that took hold of Scott by the back of his neck, throwing him violently to the side; where Scott landed on some debris with a loud enough snap there was no doubt something had broken. By the way all the alphas looked at him, it was obvious they were waiting for his reaction, probably expected him to go crazy worrying over Scott. They'd no idea…

Cora and Peter reacted first, throwing themselves against the twins. Being joined by Ylva, who stepped from behind some crates a moment later, a set of stiletto blades miming claws already arranged in between her fingers.

From the corner of his eye Stiles saw Kali move, she was aiming for Derek, and for a moment all he could think about was the attack in the loft… He hadn't been there for it, but Cora had told him enough, Stiles had had nightmares about it, and about what would have happened, how he'd have felt, if Derek hadn't managed to heal from the wound Kali dealt him that night. His reaction was instinctive as he stepped in between the two werewolves and believed with everything he had that she wouldn't be able to touch him.

It wasn't the same as a mountain ash barrier. That kind he only needed to focus on while setting it, then he could focus on something else. A magical shield… if his concentration wavered in the slightest it would fall. So, knowing there was no way he'd be able to focus too long on one thing, he instead imagined that same energy from the shield turning to a shockwave, with which he sent Kali flying back to crash against a column.

"Interesting…" Deucalion murmured, eyes turning red.

Stiles picked up on the change and had to wonder if maybe he saw something with his werewolf eyes (his alpha eyes) that he couldn't see with his quasi-human ones. It didn't matter in the end, not in the long run.

Stiles froze for a minute when Derek's hand was pressed to the back of his neck, only for breath, before he ran it straight down his spine in a silent communication. He knew what was coming next. Derek was going after Kali, because someone had to and for the time being it seemed like Deucalion had no intention of fighting himself. It was also meant to be a reminder for Stiles to take care of himself.

It should have been insane, beyond insane even, but while Loki was keeping an eye over Ylva, Cora and Peter as they dealt with the twins, and Nightingale stood guard over the unconscious Scott, Derek knew Fenrir was still waiting in the shadows, and despite not really knowing any of the newcomers he trusted none of them would let Deucalion, or anyone else, hurt Stiles. So he chose not to worry too much about the boy (the one his wolf kept purring over, had been doing so since Stiles had woken him in that elevator before dawn, and Derek so wasn't ready to contemplate what that might mean!).

"You are an interesting one, Stiles was it?" Deucalion commented, all his attention on him. "And I thought the greatest treasure in this quirky little town was your friend, the True Alpha…"

Stiles couldn't help himself, he snorted.

"You don't believe in him?" Deucalion clearly wasn't expecting that.

"I believe a lot of things where it comes to Scott." Stiles answered, completely blasé. "I would never finish listing them. But where it concerns us… I believe he's a werewolf, and has learned to deal with it; but that's all. Tell me something Deucalion, you call yourself the alpha of alphas. An alpha is supposed to be a leader, right? But how can one lead that which they hate?"

Deucalion could only blink.

"That's right." Stiles nodded. "Scott hates being a werewolf. Well, maybe hate is a strong word. But while he might have learned to deal with it, to accept it, that doesn't mean he embraces it. He doesn't see the bite as a gift, or his wolf as a blessing. If, right at this moment, you were to tell him there's a cure for what he is, he would take it. Also, how can you lead a pack, when you've never been one yourself? Scott has never wanted to be part of the Hale pack. The only reason he never truly became an Omega was because of Allison and myself; her love and I believe a bit of my magic managed to anchor him." He shook his head, pushing that aside. "So you see, I might believe a lot of things about Scott, even good things. But I wouldn't choose him as my Alpha."

"But you've made your choice." The 'blind' alpha nodded.

"I have." Stiles confirmed.

"Then I suppose I'll have to fight you after all." He stated, easy as you please.

As it turned out, Deucalion was fast, faster than even Stiles was expecting. He raised his cane, revealing the shiny, pointy tip, and threw it at Stiles before the boy quite realized what was going on. Thankfully, he wasn't alone.

Deucalion blinked. Things had changed so fast even his alpha sight hadn't quite caught it. Yet it was clear enough right then. In the man standing right before the boy, dressed head to toe in black leather and holding Deucalion's cane in his hand.

"That was a wrong move to make." Fenrir practically snarled.

It didn't matter that he hardly knew Stiles… Raven. The boy was cared for by two of the most important people in his life, by those he saw as his parents… Fenrir would protect Raven, and he would kill anyone who so much as tried to hurt him.

"You cannot defeat me!" Deucalion roared, calling on his alpha form. "I am the Demon Wolf!"

Fenrir laughed. He couldn't stop himself, didn't even try. He laughed long and hard.

"I will show you a demon wolf." He announced around his growing fangs.

The shift, it wasn't like with the Hale pack. It wasn't slow and Stiles didn't hear bones changing, skin stretching. It all happened quickly, smoothly. Fenrir let himself fall forward, but his hands never hit the ground, instead he landed on four paws, black fur covering his entire body. The other curious detail, differentiating him from the 'human' weres, was that his eyes didn't change color, they stayed hazel only… brighter somehow.

Deucalion didn't even see the attack coming. From one heartbeat to the next he lost his head.

On the other side of the warehouse the twins had long since surrendered, calling for mercy which, at Cora's and Nightingale's insistence, the others decided to grant. Loki just dropped on them in time to knock them out.

Kali shrieked as she realized she was the only one still standing, still fighting. Derek chuckled slightly at her. While he had certainly taken a beating, and it showed, he was still keeping up with her. He'd no idea how, considering how badly things had gone the last time he and Kali had fought, but he wasn't about to complain about it.

"I'll kill you all!" Kali wailed. "Starting with the little brat."

That made everyone react, though none more so than Derek, who was on Kali so fast there was very little she could do about it. In seconds she was on her back, one hand on her stomach and the other against her neck, though she was bleeding out too fast for even alpha healing to be enough. Everyone expected Derek to just finish her off already, except he didn't; instead, he did the very last thing anyone could have expected.

"Peter," He called.

The older Hale snapped up to attention, though not quite daring come close.

"If you still want the power, it's yours." Derek said simply.

"What…?!" No one had seen that one coming.

Stiles blinked because, he was so sure he was learning to read the Hales well enough, but even he hadn't expected that one. Had no idea why Derek was even doing it except… except a part of him did. Because he knew Peter had liked being an alpha; even if he'd come to hate how he became one, and he didn't begrudge Derek for taking the power (and his life) as he did. Derek had finally forgiven Peter, and as much as he might want to keep his family together (they, and possibly Stiles were all the pack he had left) he wasn't going to force Peter to stay (nor Cora for that matter). So he was giving him the option.

"I…" Peter actually seemed to stop and think about things before answering. "I do want the power, I do." He admitted after what seemed like forever. "But I want this pack more."

He did. Much as he wouldn't have believe himself capable of it in the past. He loved his pack. He'd finally stopped blaming Derek for what Kate Argent had done, to Derek himself and to the family as a whole, he'd stopped blaming him and Laura for abandoning him in that hospital, he'd never blamed him (or Stiles or Jackson) for killing him and ending his time as an insane alpha. Peter had finally managed to heal… and he'd realized that while it might not be what it had been once upon a time, he had a pack. With a niece, a nephew, an insane human, and possibly even a few not-so-humans, soon enough. He had a pack, and that was enough.

"Can someone…?" Derek waved her hand at the dying woman. "I don't want her power either."

Loki just nodded wordlessly, conjuring a blade and using it to cut the she-wolf's head off in a smooth motion. Nightingale looked away. She'd never say a thing against her love's actions, or those of the people she loved. She understood that, awful as it might be, sometimes one had to kill to protect, and to survive; didn't mean she had to like it.

A beat passed, two, and then…

"We won…" Cora breathed out in a mix of shock and wonder, as she dropped to her knees, like she couldn't quite believe it.

"We did." Stiles agreed, swaying on the spot, giddy with relief as he was.

They'd done it. They hadn't just survived against the infamous Alpha Pack, they managed to win. If that wasn't beyond amazing, Stiles had no idea what it was.

 **xXx**

After some consideration they decided to take the unconscious Scott back to his place and leave him with Melissa; the twins they left in the distillery. It would be up to them what happened after that. Once thing was for sure though, if either of them attacked them again the pack wouldn't be so merciful.

They found Chris Argent waiting with his dad on the porch of the Stilinski place. Apparently they were just arriving (which meant that either they hadn't taken long at all in dealing with the Alpha Pack, or the FBI were making things more troublesome for them all than necessary).

"Allison and Issac called me, telling me they couldn't find Scott." Argent stated straight out.

"Hello to you too Argent." Stiles drawled. "We're fine, how about you?"

"Scott is fine if unconscious." Cora offered. "The twins' doing, not ours. We just dropped him off with his mom."

"What happened with the alpha pack?" Argent wanted to know.

"Gone." Peter stated simply.

It wasn't strictly true, but it wasn't like Argent had earned enough of their trust to know the details. And he knew it.

"Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to my dad." Stiles stated in a very clear dismissal.

"What about your friends?" Argent pressed.

"We are no concern of yours, hunter." Fenrir stated, allowing just the slightest hint of the beast inside him to show through.

"You're not welcome here, Mr. Argent." Nightingale told him, her voice as gentle as ever, with an undercurrent of power and authority. "You should leave now."

Chris did not insist anymore, he just bowed his head and walked straight to his vehicle, driving away without a word.

"Stiles…?" Noah asked, looking at him, then at everyone else.

"Dad, you remember Silbhé Salani, from Chicago, they call her Nightingale nowadays." Stiles introduced them. "The one beside her is her husband, Loki." That was true enough, even if not legally. "Loki's brother Fenrir and his wife, Ylva." Easier than saying Fenrir was technically Loki's adopted son. "And of course you know the Hales: Derek, Cora and Peter."

"Weren't you dead?" Noah blinked, looking at Peter in shock.

Cora couldn't help herself, she giggled almost hysterically. She'd been the one to help Stiles make the big reveal to his dad; yet they obviously had left a lot of things out. And that was without considering everything that had changed just in the last 24 hours!

"I think we need to have a long talk dad." Stiles decided with a sigh.

"That we do son." Stiles agreed. "What do you say we order some pizzas and talk all together while we eat?" He turned to look at the others. "You're welcome to stay."

"We'd love to Sheriff." Nightingale nodded kindly.

"Noah, call me Noah." He told her with a nod.

They talked, a lot. They talked about what had been happening over the past year, all the things Cora and Stiles had already mentioned, and all the things they hadn't. And not even just the past year, but what had happened before, that night in Chicago, and the years since, while Stiles and the others had been long-distance friends.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Noah's questions seemed to come out of nowhere, except it wasn't, not to them.

"I'll stay if you ask me to." Stiles answered sincerely.

"That I will never do." Noah shook his head. "Because I love you kid, and I know you'd do it. For me, you'd stay. But that's not what's the best for you. You need to go. To see the world and all the possibilities open to you, the things you've been repressing while here. Your magic, and your connections, your pack. You won't be happy if you stay and they go."

"I'll be happy with you." Stiles insisted, but he knew well enough that wasn't completely true, much as it might hurt.

"You'll be happier with them." Noah insisted. "Besides, it's not like it'll be forever, right?"

"No." Stiles hurried to reassure him. "Not forever."

It was the truth, even if none of them had dared say why things were the way they were exactly. They couldn't stay, not with the way things were going. Beacon Hills was supposed to be Hale land, but three Hales alone, with no support, there was no way they'd be able to hold onto it; especially not when those that should have been the allies were supporting an outsider with the excuse of some legendary 'True Alpha' power. Stiles might one day be able to give them that support, but not yet; he'd suppressed his true nature for too long, it'd take a while for him to learn to properly use his abilities. As for the others, they'd felt it, the bonds tying them to Stiles and the Hales; so it'd been decided they'd stick around together, be pack.

Stiles had enough credits all he needed was to present a few tests and he'd have his High School diploma, six months early. And then they could leave. It wouldn't be forever, they'd return one day; but not until they were ready to claim their territory once again. It might take a while.

"You better take care of my boy, Hale." Stiles's focus return to him just in time to listen to his dad pretty much threatening Derek.

"Dad?!" He eeped, going deep red.

Because of course his dad had noticed Stiles's interest in him, never mind that Derek had never showed any such interest except… except he had, hadn't he? At least in the last few hours, the way he couldn't seem to stop looking at Stiles, kept standing so close to him that, were it anyone else, the boy would have complained about personal space already. And the way Nightingale and Loki just looked at them, the first smiling and the latter practically smirking. He'd have to ask them at some point what it was they could see, that he couldn't.

"With my life, sir." Derek answered, with not a hint of a joke.

That only made Stiles go even redder, especially when he noticed just how close Derek's hand was to his own as they sat on that couch; so much their fingers had begun to intertwine without them consciously noticing.

 **xXx**

They would be leaving in the morning. Because neither of them wanted to give time to any of the others to seek them out and demand answers. Stiles wasn't sure how it'd go if Scott were to try that with the mood Stiles himself had been in lately; and he was quite sure if Deaton's name was so much as suggested at any point, Peter would go psychotic all over again.

The plan for the time being was to drop by the school, where Stiles would hand in the papers to make it official that he was dropping out and would be presenting the exams to get his diploma at the earliest opportunity (probably a week or so later, in some other city, once they were sure they weren't being followed by anyone). He'd even managed to convince Cora to study with him so she might get her own diploma as well. Then… who knew? They planned on traveling together, all of them, even if they hadn't the slightest idea where they'd be going. One thing was for certain though, they'd be returning to Beacon Hills some day, when they were ready.

Noah insisted on all of them staying the night, and they somehow all ended in a puppy pile of sorts. Even Loki and Nightingale, who seemed the less likely had joined them on the mattresses, pillows and sheets arranged on the living room floor (their magic had also probably helped make it all a lot more comfortable than it'd have been otherwise).

It wasn't quite dawn when Stiles woke up, which surprised him not at all. He was nervous. Not afraid, and not doubtful, at all; but still nervous. With some twisting and turning he managed to extricate himself from the puppy pile and walked on bare feet to the back-porch, slipping out as silently as possible. It probably wasn't the best idea, stepping out in nothing but the sweatpants and t-shirt he'd slept in and bare feet, considering it was the middle of December and it couldn't have been over 40 °F outside; it certainly wouldn't have been for anyone other than him.

Stiles wasn't sure what was happening exactly, or how, but close contact with Nightingale and Loki (especially the latter) seemed to be pushing his own magic forth faster. The moment he stepped out the door he could feel his magic rising, making it feel as if he had a heavy, fuzzy blanket all around him.

He wasn't at all surprised when Derek joined him less than five minutes later, or when the werewolf placed a blanket over his shoulders. Stiles just rolled his eyes and then proceeded to raise his arm, blanket and all, and kept it up until Derek got the message and huddled next to him under the blanket. Being a werewolf and all he probably didn't need it, but it was the principle of the thing.

"We need to talk about what's going to happen today." Derek began in a very serious tone. "I know you may feel things are bad right now Stiles but…"

"Stop right there Derek." Stiles cut him off, a hand over the older male's mouth. "I know how you are, and I know you've probably spent the last few hours twisting things in your head. Making a list of all the reasons why this is a bad idea, how it is your fault, how you cannot allow me to do this… so let me make something very clear, first of all: my life, my choices. You're not 'allowing' anything. You may be my alpha, but I still choose what I do with my life. It's my choice to leave Beacon Hills. I hope you'll still want me with you, but even if you prohibit me from being with you, Cora and Peter; I'm still leaving today."

He was quite sure he wasn't the only one who took a deep breath after that. But Stiles wasn't done just yet.

"I know you always overthink things, so do I." Stiles went on. "And I know you've probably convinced yourself that whatever's wrong between Scott and I is somehow your fault. But it isn't. It's Scott's fault… and maybe mine. His because he's the one who's been consistently pushing me away since he got turned and mine because… well, it's partially my fault that he got turned at all; but aside from that, I've come to realize that it might have been a mistake to let Scott get away with so much. I… Scott's been my friend for so long, as long as I can remember. After his dad left and with the asthma he was… sort of fragile. I wanted nothing more than to protect him. I did everything I could to protect him, which more than once included keeping him from facing the consequences of his own actions. Like that night, when we went looking for a body in the woods. It might have been my idea, but it's not like it was originally my idea to listen in on the police frequency and go looking for trouble. That was actually him, years earlier, back when he still believed that if he got in big enough trouble his dad would come back." He shook his head. "The bite was the first thing I couldn't really protect him from, though I still did my best to make sure he'd be alright. Which was probably why he never really joined your pack. I kept him from realizing how much he really needed to."

"Stiles…"

"It's okay Derek. I've thought long and hard about this. For a lot longer than tonight, in fact. This whole… leaving Beacon Hills. I think it was a long time coming. I just wasn't sure I'd be brave enough to do it. I know that I probably never would have, not alone."

"You're not alone."

"No, I'm not." He made a pause, pressing the side of his face against Derek briefly, before adding. "I'm not running, I promise you. I know how you feel about that. But this isn't about escaping. This is about being free, about getting the chance to be myself; and I know I'll never have that here, with Scott and Lydia and the others…"

Stiles was so lost in his own words, he didn't really notice that he'd begun playing with his pendant again, until Derek put his own hand over it. He didn't pull on it, instead turned to look at Stiles, the question clear in his eyes: ' _May I?_ ' Stiles just nodded and let go.

When Derek saw the image in the pendant; the full moon that took practically the whole pendant, and on clear contrast the black wolf and the raven above it.

"It's a magic pendant." Stiles explained quietly. "It's meant to show my spirit animal. It used to show a raven over a dark blue, starry sky… it changed into what you just saw months ago."

He said nothing more, but there was no need, seeing that image, hearing the purring of his wolf on the back of his mind, the sense of _MineMateMine_ , Derek understood. Without letting go of the pendant, Derek used his other hand to tip Stiles's face just enough to connect their mouths in a kiss. It was their first, yet it didn't feel like a first kiss at all. It wasn't shy, or clumsy or hesitant; all the opposite, it was soft, tender, not too intense, but still so full of love. Like it had been there all along, patiently waiting for them to see what was right before their eyes.

An hour later, as Nightingale and John placed platters full of chocolate chip pancakes and eggs on the table; while Loki added the mugs of hot chocolate and coffee, Derek and Stiles joined the table hand in hand. No one was surprised at all.

* * *

So... how did you like this? I hope you did. I love TW, though only really up until the first part of season 3. I liked some details from later on, but hated a lot of them. And as might have become obvious, main character or not, I'm not much of a fan of Scott.

As always, full-sized cover and set of wallpapers can be found on my DA account.

In case any of you are interested in seeing the pendant Stiles wears, go to google, the images section and search: "raven wolf full moon glass pendant" you'll find it there. Also, if you look up one with just a raven that'll give you an idea how the pendant looked before Stiles fell in love with Derek. I just love Sterek! I also loved writing the upcoming chapter, hope you'll enjoy reading it, it'll be up in a couple of weeks.

On a slightly different topic. If any of you have read my "M'aih" fic (it's from ST), I'm proud to announce that it's not become a series and the second part, called "Wuh'rak Esta" has been posted. The next will be coming in a few weeks. I'd love it if people would go read that. Thank you!

See ya in a couple of weeks with the second and final part of this particular AU.


	2. Protectors

So... this should totally have been updated yesterday, but I forgot. Honestly, no excuses, I just forgot. But we're here now! And I hope this chapter will have been worth the wait.

It's time for the pack to grow and settle, and claim back the territory that has always, and will always, be theirs. Just to make things clear, though it will be mentioned in the story itself, a lot has happened in the years the pack has been gone, mostly the kind of things that were shown in the series, only Stiles wasn't around and, as might be expected, his absence had a kind of domino effect. It will be mostly explained in the story. You still don't need to have watched the series, but I do recommend at least a basic understanding of the characters (even if some will have changed a lot due to what has already happened, and will keep happening). Hope you enjoy!

Song in this chapter is: "Legends Never Die" as sung by Against the Current.

* * *

 **Protectors**

Even the smallest of creatures can become the fiercest protectors.

In the end, it took three and a half years for the pack to return to Beacon Hills. They weren't planning to, not at first. They'd known it'd be necessary sooner or later, BH was still Hale land and would always be, and all four Hales (Stiles being Derek's mate) could feel the call of the land; and with every moon it became harder to ignore.

They'd come close to returning in Spring of 2014, when the mess with the Wild Hunt happened. Because they might have left the town, but that didn't mean they didn't know what was going on, they had a few people keeping them up to date. Like Sheriff Stilinski, or Alpha Ito (Alpha Satomi Ito, leader of the pack and territory closest to BH). Peter even had a few contacts and kept feelers out, just in case. Thankfully the situation had resolved itself, so they hadn't needed to intervene.

It's not like they hadn't had their own troubles through the years. Like the Calaveras… and they so weren't going back to Mexico unless it was absolutely necessary. Even with the help they got from the Flowers, that had not been a good time for them. And then there were Kate and her Berserkers. Derek and Stiles had hated finding out that Kate Argent was still alive, and she came so close to getting Derek killed… it was Stiles who killed her in the end. He'd gone nuts when believing Derek to be dead, his magic pretty much acted on its own and didn't stop until Derek's own voice pulled him out (just in time for him not to burn himself out); there was next to nothing left of Kate by then.

Still, after learning from both Noah and Satomi exactly what happened during the Wild Hunt, and how close they all got to not just dying, but disappearing entirely. That all of BH was almost lost. That's when the serious planning began. They couldn't let it go on, Scott and his pack might not get so lucky the next time, and BH was still Hale land.

The year was 2016 and most of the world was still reeling at the revelation of things like other worlds and aliens (pseudo gods!) existing, ever since the Convergence, the year before. The pack was just glad it meant no one was focusing much on things like werewolves anymore. Fenrir, Ylva, Loki and Nightingale had been somewhat tense for a while, until they became convinced that Asgard wasn't hunting them anymore; either they'd finally given up, or they simply didn't consider them a priority for the time being. In any case, that had allowed them to plan not just the return to BH, but deciding to settle down.

Kathryn Salani, Nightingale's aunt (and the only family she had left) was overjoyed at the chance of being close to her niece again. She'd hardly seen the gal since they'd all fled Chicago back in 2009. It was her own idea for her to move to BH first; to make arrangements for the move and check on the situation with the McCall pack.

Housing arrangements were made fast. The old building that held Derek's old loft was remodeled top to bottom. They managed to expand on it in such a way that it all became like a house, or a set of interconnected apartments with a common area that was the second-to-top floor. Each of the couples had their own room with an en-suite bathroom, as did Cora and Peter. The lower floors would serve as guest-suites; because the Hales could still remember a time when the Hale Pack would receive guests, people who went to them for advice, for help, or even just to visit. They were hoping to one day get to that point themselves. Kathryn herself would be living in Peter's old apartment in town, she had even applied for a job in Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. Though only Noah knew who she was.

It was a good plan. Still, no one really expected it when Kathryn called them, less than 12 hours after arriving to town, or her grim words:

"You need to get here. Now."

Beacon Hills was falling into pieces, and once again a Hunter was behind it all. The worst part? There was no one to defend the territory, to protect the innocent humans.

Kathryn's words got the expected result: in less than a minute the eight members of the pack stepped out of the shadows and straight into the mudroom; to come face to face with a blue-eyed were in beta shift growling at them.

Stiles was on the move before anyone got the chance to say a word, and the gal found herself inside a mountain ash circle in seconds.

"Malia!" Two voices cried out.

"Someone mind telling me what the hell is going on?!" Cora demanded loudly. "Why did we get attacked the moment we got here? You called us here!"

"Malia, it's okay, they're family." John stepped straight over the mountain ash circle, without breaking it, and went to comfort the girl.

"This is Malia?" Stiles asked, cocking his head in curiosity. "This is my sis?"

He knew all about Malia. The girl had been through something traumatic at eight years old, went into full-shift as a coyote and stayed like that for years, until Scott used his 'alpha howl' to force her to shift back. Things went very badly when they tried to get her to reconnect with her adopted father: Henry Tate. The two were too nervous, the pack hadn't known how to help and then when Malia lost control and shifted… Henry almost killed her.

The whole thing had ended very tragically when, moved by desperation, Henry shot himself. Malia refused to stay with Scott, or anyone else from the pack, blaming them for things going so wrong with her dad. And then Noah decided to step in. It had begun with offering the girl a place to spend the night, or a few nights; and somehow, without either of them quite noticing, it became something permanent. There had been no adoption, as Malia was over eighteen already, but she saw Noah as her dad, just like he saw her as a daughter, and Stiles accepted that.

"Hey Mal..." Stiles waved a hand, dispelling the ash. "Sorry about that, you just startled me. I am Stiles, your brother. If you'd like that."

"I'd like that, yes." She nodded, smiling shyly at him.

It was almost painful, because while Malia might be twenty-one, legally and biologically, she'd spent so long as a coyote that in her mind she was still in her mid-teens or something. Stiles stepped forth to hug her, letting her scent him a bit.

There were some greetings, and it was until Malia came face to face with Peter, that things took a turn for the freaky.

"Why do you smell like that?" She asked, somewhat bluntly.

"Like what?" Peter asked her, curious.

"Like… me, but not." Malia answered, twisting a bit, confused.

"I don't know." Peter admitted, as intrigued as she.

"We'll find out." Derek assured them. "But right now I think we need to know what is going on that Kathryn thought we needed get here fast."

"And why the wards around this house feel like they've been under constant barrage for a while now." Added Loki, eyes closed as he focused on the magic around them all.

The story came then. About the way people had slowly but surely become irrationally afraid of all things, and people, supernatural. They'd actually managed to mostly track it down to a creature called the Anuk-Ite, which had escaped from the Wild Hunt; which Malia and Kira (Yukimura, a thunder kitsune also there) had managed to kill just in time to save the rest of the pack. The problem? Scott was still as self-righteous as he'd been when Stiles and the others had last been in Beacon Hills. He disapproved of the girls killing the Anuk-Ite, despite the fact that the situation had been desperate and no one had had any other plan, no way to nullify its power or capture it (and they so weren't going to invoke the Wild Hunt, no way). It was then that the girls had pretty much left the pack, holding onto their bond to the Sheriff (Kira wasn't in good terms with her parents for reasons no one really knew, other than it had something to do with her heritage).

In any case, things had seemed to settle down for a while. A couple of years in fact. And then something had happened months earlier, during the last lacrosse game of the school year. An event that forced all the weres in the school (which included the younger members of the McCall pack) to shift in front of everyone. It was then that the true disaster began.

Apparently while the destruction of the Anuk-Ite had dispelled the irrational fear, there were those who still did not like the supernatural. A woman called Tamora Monroe (who, ironically, was supposed to be the school counselor) had found the Argent armory, and it all snowballed from there. According to Noah she was a fanatic, speaking of all supernaturals like monsters, demons that needed to be eliminated; she viewed herself and her followers like some kind of purifiers or holy army… With the older half of the pack at college and the younger terrified with all the developments, Melissa had tried to speak on their behalf… it did not go well.

"She almost died." Noah announced, grimly. "Monroe's followers actually tried to burn her alive for 'sympathizing with dark creatures'. Chris barely managed to save her, though he did not come out of it unscathed."

"And the rest of the pack?" Cora asked, she'd a feeling she wouldn't like the answer.

"From those who were still attending high-school, at least one of them is dead and two others fled." Noah answered sadly. "I don't know all the details, it's not like I was ever part of their pack. And the girls haven't been a part of it for a while." He made a pause and then added. "Oh and… Coach Finstock, he… he actually died doing his best to protect them. Managed to kill a couple of the fanatics, from what I've heard."

"Coach… coach is dead?" Stiles couldn't help the tears.

Granted, the man had never exactly been his favorite person but, but he'd been a good man. Stiles never expected him to die, and less in such a way.

"What about the others?" Derek inquired, suspicious.

"Well, like I told you back then, Issac and Lydia are gone, the twins are dead." Noah enlisted.

Yes, they'd heard about it at the time. How something had happened and Lydia had been sent to Eichen House by her mom, who claimed she was going crazy, like her grandmother had; only to then be signed out by someone else. Noah only knew that it was a boy, and that he'd a document that allowed him to take charge of Lydia, even after Natalie Martin had declared her mentally incapacitated. It was all legal though, and since Noah had never agreed with the girl being put there (he'd agreed with Stiles that her abilities probably had something to do with it) he said nothing about it.

Issac had left shortly after graduation. According to the girls he and Scott had had a fight, a bad one, regarding a new member of the pack, whom Issac did not trust. Scott refused to listen to Issac's suspicions. In the end Issac had chosen to take an offer and left town. Considering that, according to Kira, said new member of the pack had almost gotten them all killed… Issac had been right, he'd left just in time.

The twins weren't so lucky.

"And Allison, Scott…?" Stiles already suspected the answers.

"The cowards only came back long enough to get their parents, then they fled." Kira growled.

"Didn't even try to find the rest of the pack." Malia added in the same tone. "When I asked them what the hell they thought they were doing, you know what they said: Surviving. They didn't care about everyone else. Not about their pack, or about us, or anyone else in the town. People are dying, have been dying, with Monroe and her crazy followers going around doing whatever they want, so armed no one dares oppose them. Papa tried…"

"Dad…?!" Why hadn't they known about that, Stiles was suddenly in a near panic.

"It's okay, I'm okay." Noah hurried to reassure his son. "Though maybe you should know I'm no longer sheriff. Apparently I cannot be trusted to the position when I choose to side with the 'dark creatures'. Also… one of my deputies died. He helped me, when Monroe's fanatics got a bit rough, and in turn they found out that he was supernatural too. They killed him, bullet to the head, there was nothing I could do."

"Oh dad, I'm sorry…" Stiles whispered

He embraced his father tightly, knowing how much it must weigh on him, for someone to have died saving him. And while Stiles certainly felt bad for the guy, whoever he might have been, and any family that might have lost him, he couldn't help but be thankful too, that his dad was alright.

"In any case, that's how we all ended here, and why you feel the wards like you do." Noah added for good measure. "We had to pretty much lock ourselves in here a couple of weeks ago, after Parrish died. None of us three can go out anymore. It's too risky. Monroe's people keep trying to get in but have yet to succeed."

"They never will." Nightingale assured him. "They will never get past the wards."

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Stiles asked, unable to keep the hint of hurt from his voice. "I… we skype every week, talk on the phone at least as often, text practically every single day. Why did you never tell me things were this bad?"

"I knew you were all getting ready to come back, how nervous you were about things." Noah told him softly. "Didn't want to give you something else to worry about."

"I will always worry about you dad, always, you're my family." Stiles told him, kindly but strongly. "And I will always do all I can to protect you."

"You know? I'm supposed to be the one protecting you." It had been a frequent point of debate, since Noah had found out the truth about the supernatural.

"We protect each other." Stiles said the same thing they always ended agreeing on; then he turned to his pack. "Now lets see what we can do to handle this mess."

 **xXx**

In the next couple of hours they met the rest of the people living (taking refuge) in the Stilinski home: like Brett Talbot and Lorilee Rohr, Satomi Ito's adopted children, who'd originally gone to Scott to seek aid, gotten captured, then rescued by Malia and Kira, who got them to Noah's place, knowing it was the only safe house in Beacon Hills (as the new set of apartments hadn't yet been warded). Then there was Carrie Hudson, also from Satomi's pack, she'd been in BH because she worked in a cafe. Noah had been the one to save her, having found her fleeing for her life. She was missing a hand, as the hunters had cut it with wolfsbane treated instruments and therefore hadn't healed right.

"Does our Alpha know you're here?" Carrie asked, curious, as she watched the Hale pack.

"No." Cora shook her head. "She knows we always intended to return, but we haven't really met with her since right after leaving Beacon Hills, years ago, and the last time we spoke to her on the phone was months ago."

"Probably before all this truly began, or at least before things got serious." Noah nodded.

Otherwise, Satomi Ito would definitely have told them about it. Years prior she'd understood the Hale's need to leave for a while. To regroup after all their loses (recent and not-so-much). She hadn't agreed, but had accepted it was their choice. Stiles was quite sure the only reason she had not fought them on the matter was because of their assurance they'd be returning. BH was still Hale land after all, it couldn't be left untended; and they'd all known from the start that True Alpha or not (they'd no idea if the legend was true or not, but Stiles still held onto the belief that Scott couldn't be one, at least not as he'd been back when they left, refusing to accept his wolf and all that came with being one).

"So, what's the plan?" Noah asked them after everything had been said and done.

All eyes of the Hale pack turned to Loki, they knew he was the best strategist among them.

"It's complicated." He explained, seriously. "If we take them straight on, as I know most would prefer, we risk innocents getting hurt."

"And what's more, we risk giving those who right now might be on the fence about things, a real reason to fear us all." Nightingale added very softly.

"That too." Loki agreed grimly. "Though that's also true if we go after them in secret. Unless we somehow managed to get them all together we run the risk of someone then going around telling their version of the story."

"Which would make us into the villains, of course." Stiles nodded, following his line of thought.

"Exactly." The sorcerer nodded. "So… I suppose it depends on what our priorities are."

"I think maybe we should give it some time." Nightingale offered. "Keep an eye on things, asses the situation before doing anything."

In the end it was agreed. So they took to teleporting in and out of the house, walking around, keeping an eye and an ear out to analyze everything going on.

At first sight nothing seemed to be any different than in any other town. The High-School was open with summer-school, people went to work, to eat, home… Nightingale was the first one who noticed what was wrong, and even then it was initially due to her gift of empathy. She could sense the tension all around the town. The fear in the people, and not just the supernatural. With all the known 'non-humans' holed together, and the hunters unable to get to them, tensions were growing. The hunters were getting antsy, wanting to kill and unable to do so; and other people, humans, were beginning to fear what might happen when the hunters snapped.

It happened sooner than any of them could have expected.

In the end, it wasn't in their hands. A boy at the high-school was speaking in favor of the weres; condemning the hunters for their actions, for killing his boyfriend, and the Coach. They took the boy. Less than an hour later it was all around town, a boy was going to be hanged for being a 'sympathizer'. The surprising part was that the announcement didn't make things stop, instead it seemed to be the spark that set the fire ablaze.

All the town gathered in the high-school, where Monroe herself intended to go ahead with the hanging. Her hunters keeping the people, who yelled and screamed, back. She turned toward the boy, African-american and looking so small when compared to everyone, especially the hunters. And yet he was so brave…

"Any last words?" Monroe was practically mocking him, probably expecting him to cry, or beg.

The boy didn't give her the satisfaction.

"You're the real monster here." He hissed.

Monroe practically snarled at that, giving the boy a shove to get him off the top of the bleachers, the rope around his neck connected to a spotlight above them. The rope never tensed though. Instead they all witnessed the boy land on the ground with an oof as the wind got knocked out of him, rope still around his neck, and another piece swaying to the wind, hanging from the big spotlight. Monroe was practically roaring in fury, and it wasn't just the failed hanging, though it certainly was connected. There was blood in her cheek, from a cut caused by a thin blade, the same that had cut straight through the rope she intended to use to hang the boy (which would eventually be found on the bleachers).

"Who dares…?!" She snarled.

"I do." A voice called, quiet and even.

All eyes turned in its direction. They found a young man standing behind almost everyone. There was nothing special about him. He was perhaps a bit on the tall side, lean, skin pale but for the collection of moles on one side of the face and down his neck, hair dark, mostly short and a bit messy; he was wearing a dark brown leather jacket over a chocolate shirt, jeans and heavy boots. Completely unremarkable, except for the look on his amber eyes, the way he stared at Monroe, as if rather than a hunter, he considered her prey.

"Who are you?" Monroe demanded in a hiss.

"Stiles Stilinski." He replied in an almost cheerful tone, which turned biting when he added. "Though in some circles they call me Raven, second in command of the Hale pack."

"A pack!" Monroe cried. "You're one of those monsters! Get him!"

One of the hunters reacted instantly, firing an arrow which Stiles caught in the air like it was nothing at all. He just shook his head and dropped it.

"That's impossible." Monroe shook her head.

"Why?" Stiles shrugged. "Because they have wolfsbane and I'm not reacting to it? You probably thought yourself so clever, covering the whole arrow in wolfsbane rather than just the tip. And maybe it was. The thing is? I'm not a were… I'm something else." He shook his head. "This isn't how we were going to do things you know? We came back because someone needed to protect this place..."

"That's what I'm doing!" Monroe retorted.

"No, you're not." Stiles cut her off. "You may tell others that, may even tell yourself that. But how does killing an innocent teenager protect anyone? What makes you better than him? Or me for that matter? What gives you the right to decide who lives and who dies?"

Monroe didn't have an answer for that, and it was obvious he didn't like that.

"You've killed innocent people, good people, for no other reason than they weren't entirely human." Stiles went on. "And don't think I don't know what your minions tried to do to my father. The only reason he's alive is because my pack knows how to take care of our own. But that's ending now. Not our protecting others, of course not, but you being allowed to kill. To create chaos and mayhem and destruction just because you want to. I have no idea what happened to you to make you who you are right now. It probably wasn't anything good. But having been a victim once doesn't give you the right to treat others the way you do."

"I was attacked! Left to die!" Monroe shrieked. "No one cared about me!"

"Like I said, not anything good." Stiles shrugged. "It still doesn't give you the right to attack others, people who haven't done anything, to you or to anyone else, simply because they're probably like those that hurt you. That's not justice, not even vengeance, that's simply evil." He shook his head. "Like I said before. We weren't going to do things like this. The last thing we want is to become you. For people to think that we're going to persecute those who aren't supernatural. Which is absolutely ridiculous. I mean, my father is perfectly human and…"

"Raven!" A female voice cried out abruptly.

A shot rang, Stiles turning in its direction right as it happened. What no one was expecting was how the bullet seemed to stop in mid-air. Not like it was being held, but as if it had slammed against some kind of barrier, or shield.

"Right, enough chitchat I suppose." Stiles shrugged again, letting the crumpled bullet fall. "It's time to end this."

As he said that, the owner of the voice jumped off the rooftop of a nearby building, where she'd been hiding. It was Cora Hale. The rest of the pack similarly emerged from several other spots. All wearing a variety of attires, always topped by dark-leather jackets. It was kind of their signature. Stiles saw it almost like a nod to the pack Derek had first tried to build, with Erika, Boyd and Issac. And of course, they all looked good in leather. Derek in particular, Stiles had always thought looked good enough to eat… and he needed to get his mind out of the gutter and focus on the fight breaking out. Stiles was quite sure he could hear Nightingale laughing somewhere nearby, no doubt she knew exactly where his mind had drifted to… not like he was the only one to have such thoughts about their respective paramours…

The battle was insane. On the one hand, a lot less people were on Monroe's side than she had clearly been expecting. Some might have 'switched sides' because of her earlier actions, almost killing the boy; but Stiles and Nightingale at least suspected that it went beyond that. Most people weren't naturally cruel, and there was only so much evil they could bear, much less inflict. The situation was always going to blow up, the pack was only happy they could be there to keep the innocent humans as safe from the more psychotic hunters as they could.

It was, surprisingly enough, Nightingale who ended up face to face with Tamora Monroe. The black woman could just look at the younger woman, what to her was nothing more than a slip of a girl, so small, so fragile looking… yet Monroe had just seen her use a pair of short knives to disable three of her followers.

"How can you… how can you support monsters?" Monroe gasped in disbelief. "Someone of your talents… you should be supporting me!"

"And someone who has a calling for education should be protecting children, rather than trying to kill them." Nightingale retorted. "At least I'm still working on protecting."

"Protecting monsters!" Monroe spat.

"What makes a monster?" Nightingale asked calmly, twirling one of her blades in her hand. "Is it having claws and fangs? Magic? Personally I think that a monster isn't the one who looks this way or that, or has any particular gift or skill; it's someone who'd rather hurt than help, someone who'd rather destroy that nurture. Werewolves can be monsters, that's true, but that doesn't mean they have to be. Most aren't. Humans too can make the choice. Yours has been demonstrated quite clearly to everyone here."

Monroe let out a non-verbal shriek before throwing herself at Nightingale, who waited until the very last moment to go into motion. She bent back, evading Monroe's shots, then to a side, dodging her punch. Then she took advantage of the older woman over-extending herself to take hold of her arm with both hands, twisting the arm, and then the woman herself. A well-placed kick to her ankles dropping her to her knees.

Monroe let out a cry as her knees hit the concrete. She tried to free herself but to no avail, Nightingale was keeping her down, both arms twisted behind her back hard enough than any harsh motion would end up in dislocation.

"So, you gonna kill me now?" The woman spat at the girl.

"I told you already, I'm not the monster." Nightingale reminded her evenly. "Though you must know, you will pay for the pain you've caused. I will make sure of that."

Monroe was barely aware of Nightingale letting her go; but before she could even think about trying anything, a precise hit to the back of her neck knocked her out cold.

 **xXx**

The fight ended fast after the defeat of Monroe. The complication afterwards was deciding what to do with the hunters. They hadn't killed anyone, though some would be needing a hospital unless they wanted to end up permanently maimed. Still, they couldn't just let them go. The Hale and Ito packs came together in the open space where the Hale house had once stood (it had been torn down and some things set up to serve as training grounds and emergency refuge but nothing more as the pack would be living in their new place.

"We cannot kill them." Stiles said seriously. "For the time being we have the moral high ground, but that could still change. The last thing we need is for others, especially hunter families the like of the Argents, the Calaveras, or the Jägers, to become sympathetic to Monroe and her cause."

"What are we supposed to do then?" Satomi demanded. "We cannot just let them go. They will just keep coming back!"

"And we cannot imprison them ourselves, some would see it as being the same as us killing them." Montana, one of her Betas, added.

"You forget you're not alone." Noah intervened. "You have me. I have more than enough to make sure Monroe and all her people will be going to prison for a very long time. All kinds of charges. From illegal possession of firearms, to attempted murder and actual murder. Even if we cannot prove some. I can serve as witness for their murder of Parrish, and the hospital will have records about what happened to Melissa McCall, even if we cannot get her to testify."

"I can do it too." Carrie stepped forth.

It was the first time since losing her hand that she felt like she had any kind of power. It felt good, believing she could do something to make those who hurt her, who tried to kill her, who killed friends of hers… pay.

"What if they go around revealing the secret?" Peter asked grimly. "That could be very dangerous to everyone. With what happened last year in England… the last thing we need is the FBI, or worse, SHIELD, to come sniffing around."

"A memory spell." Nightingale blurted out suddenly.

"You can make them forget?!" Several voices cried out in shock.

"Not quite." Loki shook his head. "Well, technically we could. Raven might be able to do it too, to a degree. But actually erasing memories is dangerous because memories aren't individually separated; they're interconnected. You can never take just one. Also, the memory is never on its own, there are connections, to smells, images, sounds, emotions…"

The way he and Nightingale clasped hands told everyone that whatever was going through his mind as he said that, was serious, and also very personal. Only Stiles knew what it was, what would have happened to Nightingale if the Einherjer had found her that night in Chicago…

"So no, not taking memories, blurring them." Loki went on. "They will still remember everything as it is, but their certainty over some things will be lost. Like, they'll know what they were doing here, but we can make it so they'll begin to doubt that any werewolves were truly involved. This will be aided by the fact that most of them did not even believe in the supernatural until recently. Once the spell goes into effect, the confusion, their minds will automatically revert to their last certainty: which is that things like werewolves cannot possibly exist."

"What's the worst that could happen with a spell like this?" Mrs. Yukimura wanted to be sure they wouldn't be making things worse.

"It depends on the person." Nightingale admitted, grimly. "The lesser case, the sociopaths, it won't make much difference to them, as they probably would have done the exact same thing even without any supernaturals involved. Some might believe they've become fanatics, and will see their own actions as the result of someone having brainwashed them or something; it will be their way of living with things. Those who actually have a conscience? They will have it worse because they won't be able to excuse their own behavior."

"Do we actually believe that any of those bastards have a conscience?" Cora scoffed.

No one answered her but truth was, they couldn't know, not for sure and yet… it was the lesser of two evils, at least for them. And they couldn't exactly stop to worry about those who had tried to kill them, they weren't the priority, their people, their packs, and even the innocents of Beacon County, were their priority.

So in the end it was agreed: Loki, Nightingale and Raven would work their magic and then Noah would call the authorities and inform them of the group that had been caught trying to kill a bunch of people, most of them minors, in his town.

They never found out how many people died, exactly. The FBI managed to confirm almost a full dozen deaths but there were at least twice as many missing, and most weren't even from Beacon Hills, but from other nearby towns. One death they did confirm was Deaton's. Apparently the man had tried to run as well.

"So much for his balance." Stiles scoffed.

Noah had given them enough warning for them to get there before the FBI. The place smelled bad enough that only Stiles, Nightingale and Loki went in, in the end, and even then with heavy spells to protect their noses. Then the boys got to work on collecting everything the man had had that could be useful (books, herbs, crystals) before the authorities could confiscate it; while she tried to decipher what had happened exactly.

"I… it's insane, you know?" Stiles stopped completely as he sealed a trunk with everything and left Loki to 'magic it' into a pocket dimension until they could unload it at home. "I mean, I never really trusted Deaton. Something about him just didn't feel right. Never could find the right way to explain it to Scott either, so I let it be. Then the whole thing with the True Alpha, and you all know I never thought Scott should be one. I mean, he didn't even want to be a wolf! And then Deaton… well, at least he always seemed to be on Scott's side, so I thought it'd be alright. But for this to happen… How does anything that happened here equate balance?"

"It doesn't." Nightingale murmured softly. "I think he was actually trying to stop it. Which would explain why they killed him like they did. Execution style."

"Not a very smart man, was he?" Ylva asked them as the three exited the place.

Of course, with her Aesir senses she'd managed to follow the whole conversation, as had the others waiting with her.

"He was only a druid, druids have never been warriors, they're more the pacifist kind." Loki offered. "The Catha were the warriors in that bunch, though they've all been dead longer than most of the original druidic clans."

"He'd always had wolves at his back, first the Hales, then your friend." Fenrir waved at Stiles. "He did not know how to deal with things himself, not against enemies he couldn't just trap in an ash circle, or choke with a flower."

"He was stupid." Ylva concluded evenly.

"… and he paid for it with his life." Nightingale added, more quietly.

Stiles had nothing more to say, and she knew why that was. She and her 'little brother' had talked about the matter extensively over the past several years. How Mischief no longer trusted Scott, hadn't for a while by the time they left, but he'd never be able to forget the boy who'd been his best friend; who'd been there for so many moments, both good and bad. His best friend, his brother from another mother… even if Scott had no longer been that person by the time the pack left the town, Stiles would never forget. Which was why he was happy that Scott was alive and with Allison, elsewhere. They would never return to Beacon Hills, nor would their parents. It was unclear how they'd handle being just one wolf and four humans, with no established territory, but Stiles could only hope and believe they would, somehow.

 **xXx**

It took nearly two weeks for the FBI to be satisfied that everything was alright again. Surprisingly enough, and without need for any requests or threats, no one said a thing about the supernatural to anyone. Carrie told them later on how some people had approached them upon her return to school. Some were curious about her, what she could do, how and why she was a were, others only wanted her to know they had no problem with her being different; no one had so much as a bad word to say about anything. Most didn't say anything, didn't so much as admit they knew the supernatural was real, though there was no going back from such a revelation.

Nightingale and Stiles believe it would end up being a good thing. If the town knew the truth about what was going on they could take better care of themselves, and the pack wouldn't have to worry so much about remaining secret (at times that had just made things harder on them all).

The Ito and Hale packs were officially allied and Satomi had gone as far as officially cede her territory to the Hales, on the condition that they still be allowed to stay, have Satomi remain their Alpha and have the protection of the smaller but more powerful pack. Truth was, Satomi was old, and she knew it, and much as she might love her pack, she knew neither of them were ready to be Alpha. So when she passed, her Betas would become Derek's, and she knew he'd look after them, while still allowing them to continue as they'd grown used to with Satomi. It was a good deal, not the most common, but Derek and everyone else were willing to work with it.

They had quite the shocking revelation as they went through everything they'd collected from Deaton's place: Malia was Peter's daughter. Her mother was a were-coyote assassin known as the Desert Wolf. She was responsible for the car accident where Malia's adopted mother and sister had died, and which had caused Malia herself to shift fully into a coyote and go native for years. The most heartbreaking part though, was the fact that apparently it was Deaton, as well as Talia Hale herself, who'd taken baby Malia from Peter and placed her with an adoptive family, after erasing Peter's memories about her.

"I… I don't understand." Cora murmured quietly, crying. "Why'd mom do that?"

None of them had the slightest idea, nor any way to ask. Nightingale could feel the way the revelations hurt Peter, the realization that his own sister had done something like that to him. He'd always believed that she'd come to hate him, after Paige, after Derek's blue eyes… but Malia had been years prior…

Peter's train of thought broke up as Stiles embraced the man tightly.

"Raven…" Peter mumbled.

They had all grown used to calling him that. Except Derek and Nightingale, both whom called him Mischief (and Derek would sometimes called him something else during… private times, the only one allowed to say his real name).

"I don't know why she did what she did Peter." Stiles murmured quietly. "None of us can know, but that's not what you need to focus on. That's in the past, there's nothing we can do about it. What matters is the present. Right here, right now, you have a daughter. And as much as I know she loves my dad, and he loves her, she deserves a chance to know and love you too; as do you."

That certainly was enough to pull him out of his funk. As Peter raised his head to see Malia herself standing behind Stiles, twisting in place restlessly.

Raven let go of Peter and moved to a side, waving Malia forward; and when she hesitated a moment too long, he moved his foot just right to make her trip. Peter reacted exactly like Stiles knew he would, catching her.

There was no way of knowing what would come of that, not for sure. But they had a chance, and that was enough.

The group had just about settled down, having finished going through everything and fully moving in, when some kind of power began pulling at them. All of them, but especially Stiles, Loki and Nightingale, the spell-weavers of the pack. No one had the slightest idea what was going on, but as it didn't really feel dangerous, they went. Stiles was the least surprised of them all when they ended in the clearing that still held the Nemeton. Though at least the place didn't feel as dark as the last time.

Mists descended upon them the moment the last of them was in the clearing, and from those emerged twelve figures, the very same as the last time, with the darach. Just like that time also, Heather was at the front of the group.

"What's going on?" Stiles asked, a tad worried. "Is something wrong again? Heather?"

"Nothing is wrong." The spirit of the teen-aged girl replied. "We're here because we want to help. Help you all protect this town so something like what happened to us will never happen again."

"How can you do that?" Stiles didn't understand, but someone else did.

"Wards." Loki realized. "But a whole town, even one as relatively small as Beacon Hills, is much too big for a mage, no matter how strong, or even a coven. If we tried to keep the wards it'd take too much of our attention and magic from other pursuits."

"That's why you won't be the ones the wards will be anchored on." Heather explained calmly. "We will be the anchors, with the Nemeton supplying the power it gained from our deaths." She smiled. "You still need to be the ones to raise the wards of course, and we'll need three more anchors to finish the set-up."

"We won't be sacrificing anyone." Derek stated immediately.

"No, of course not." Heather shook her head right away. "Death is not necessary. Still, we're meant to be fifteen, doesn't matter if the guardians are still living. What's truly necessary is for them to be committed to the protection of Beacon Hills. And of course for them to be in close contact with you, as they will be the ones who'll be able to tell when something tries to cross the wards, when danger's coming your way."

"Well, I'm here, and I'm willing." Noah declared right away. "But Melissa and Argent are gone. And I doubt they're coming back."

"We couldn't possibly trust them with something like this even if they did." Loki shook his head. "Not after they chose to abandon the town and all its people before. It's the same as with their children. They cannot be relied on."

"Who then?" Cora wanted to know.

"What do you need exactly?" Kathryn wanted to know. "What are the guardians?"

"Essentially protectors." Nightingale stated.

"Years ago the darach interpreted it as parents." Peter added. "It's how the Sheriff, Mrs. McCall and Chris Argent ended being chosen."

"Parent or guardian, right." Kathryn picked up on the connection immediately.

"So that means we need to find parents willing to commit to this?" Cora inquired.

"You don't need to find anyone." Noah shook his head, looking straight at his son. "We are all here already. You see it, don't you?"

"Yeah." Stiles nodded, then for everyone else's benefit he added. "My dad, Nightingale's aunt, and Peter."

Strictly speaking, either of Kira's parents could have qualified too, but the fact that the same instinct that had pulled all of them there, hadn't pulled her seemed to be telling enough.

"Me?" Peter certainly wasn't expecting that. "Would you trust me with something like that?"

It was one thing to have the pack trust him in general; in the end, he was still just a beta. But for them to be willing to trust him as one of the anchors to the wards meant to protect not just the pack but the whole town.

"Of course." Derek replied right away, not a single doubt.

Peter just bowed his head in agreement, deference and gratitude.

"So, how do we do this?" Stiles asked, turning back to Heather.

"Haven't you learned by now?" The spirit-teen replied with a mischievous smile. "It's like with all magic. All you have to do is believe…"

And so they did. They believed. Believed that their pack would be safe, that the town would be safe. That no one wishing them harm would be able to go in, and if anyone with ill intent got close they'd know. They believed, and so the magic made it be.

 **xXx**

Years passed. The pack thrived, and so did their territory. And it wasn't even just Beacon Hills, or Beacon County anymore. In a lapse of seven years the Hale pack had come to make the whole of Nor Cal their territory; and they were still expanding. Most of it had come about like Satomi's old territory (though the old alpha had passed away in 2019); small, sometimes decimated packs that joined the Hale pack for the protection they could offer. At first those who had alphas, said alphas would retain their power, only showing some level of deference to Alpha Hale; but eventually most had come to see how good he was and either surrendered their Alpha sparks to him, or made arrangements for after their own deaths. By 2023, the Hale pack was more than a hundred strong, and not all of them were wolves (though none of the smaller enclaves had members quite as 'interesting' as the ones in the inner circle), there was only one Alpha left, in Redding, the northernmost pack in the state; though the alpha never left the forests, and the younger members of of his pack answered more to Derek than to him as they left the immediate area often (and their Alpha was just fine with that, he was old, and while he didn't believe in surrendering his hard won power and position, he had no interest in ruling over everything and everyone).

The Hales had settled well too. Noah was still Sheriff, and the people just loved him; Stiles and Derek were Deputies and Stiles loved it, proud to be following in his dad's footsteps, and having the chance to work together with his mate. Also, everyone in BH knew that they were pretty much the 'supernatural police'; the others would only get involved if it was something big; and there hadn't been any need for that in years. Peter was one of the most successful lawyers in California; to the point were clients went to see him even from the nearby states; Malia and Kira worked with him, the first as an accountant, while the later acted as Executive Assistant to both of them. The girls also sometimes helped Fenrir and Ylva, who gave self-defense lessons in their gym (they'd converted the warehouse beneath the loft into the gym; everything in it magically reinforced to be used even by those with inhuman strength). Kathryn was Head Nurse in Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. And finally, Nightingale and Loki (under the names of Silbhé and Luka Hvedrungr) worked at BH High as teachers, English and History respectively.

Their family had also grown during those years. The oldest was Rose Alfdis, Nightingale and Loki's daughter; who on her fifth birthday had manifested as a Seer and Fire Elemental. Then there were Fenrir's and Ylva's triplets: Conan, Faolan and Rowan; the first two boys, so much like their father, and the girl, Rowan, she was like her mother made over. Rowan had been born so small, the family was afraid she might not survive, the boys having taken most of the nutrition in the womb, being wolves. And yet, Rowan was as much a warrior as her mom, she'd survived despite her small size, and while she remained quite petite, no one would ever doubt her strength. The youngest was Cora's boy, whom she called Zach; the complication on that front? No one knew who the father might be. She'd gotten pregnant during a vacation on her own and had never given them the name of the father. The family all gave her their support and everyone got very involved in raising him, especially when Rose informed the family quite calmly that he was the future Hale Alpha.

The warning came to Peter first. As the potential invader had attempted to enter the territory from the preserve, he was the one Emily (one of the Virgins) went to. Peter informed the rest during dinner that night; thankfully it was the day of the week where the whole family sat and dined together (including those who didn't actually live at the (new) Hale House. He waited until the meal was finished and they were halfway through dessert before informing them of the news.

"Who?" Stiles asked, straight out.

Stiles, having been at the center of the creation of the wards, he knew they hadn't managed to enter. He'd have sensed it, if the wards had fallen, or been bypassed somehow. That hadn't happened, which told them that whoever had come didn't have the power for that, at least. That didn't tell them who it was, exactly, though.

"SHIELD." Peter answered, grimly.

Half the table froze. They had more than enough reason too. As secretive as SHIELD claimed to be, the confrontation they'd had with the mutants had made obvious how against all non-humans they tended to be (which many found absolutely hypocritical considering what some of the Avengers were capable of). Also, Thor was known to be allied with SHIELD, not only as an Avenger, but in the fact that his wife: Queen Consort Jane, was former Dr. Jane Foster, who'd worked with SHIELD for years, before leaving it all to marry the man who'd eventually become King of Asgard.

Already a SHIELD team had been unable to enter Beacon Hills. There was no doubt in anyone's minds, that they'd be calling their superiors, and if there was anyone with half a brain in that organization, they'd be sending people with power next. And who qualified most as such than Thor Odinson?

Loki, Nightingale, Fenrir and Ylva looked at each other in silence. They'd known it was coming. That one day Asgard would find them. That didn't stop them from weighing their chances, and the risk they were putting their family in by staying. They knew that if it weren't for the children they would have never settled down (on the other hand, Nightingale was quite sure that if they hadn't settled down, felt safe, they'd have never had children… after all, they'd been running around together for years and neither her or Ylva had become pregnant).

"We'll be okay." A soft, gentle voice announced.

All eyes turned towards Rose then. Looking at the six-year-old who was looking at her with eyes that were a mix of black, red and orange… she was seeing something, even if none of them knew what exactly (and they knew better than to ask).

"How are you so sure?" Peter, the one who believed the least in things like clairvoyance, asked.

Rose ignored his tone completely. She knew Uncle Peter, she liked him, especially because he and Auntie Malia were teaching her how to fight, even though she was still little. And she could still remember Uncle Peter carrying her on his shoulders everywhere when she asked.

"I believe." She answered with a beatific smile.

 **xXx**

Three days later one of their contacts in San Francisco: Phoebe Halliwell, informed them of the huge plane that had just landed on a private airstrip in the outskirts of the city. Two vehicles had disembarked and were heading for Beacon Hills, would be there in less than two hours.

"So, what's the plan?" Mrs. Yukimura wanted to know. "What are we going to do?"

"Nothing at all." Nightingale shook her head.

"Nothing?" Kathryn repeated, she hadn't been expecting that.

"Nothing." Stiles confirmed. "We keep to business as usual. The town has been warned about the agents coming, and to act naturally. We will do our best to keep our business private. If at any moment they do anything that can be considered threatening, or they discover the truth, then and only then we will act."

They all knew it was a matter of 'when' rather than 'if', but no one corrected him.

Surprisingly enough, nothing really happened for a week or so. It had taken less than half a day for the Hales to know who exactly had arrived. The original team had consisted of four people, two couples, both married (legally too! Noah had checked): Phil and Darcy Coulson, as well as Grant and Skye Ward. The foursome had been joined two days later by three more people: Melinda May, and Jemma and Leo FitzSimmons. Loki, Nightingale and even Stiles could all feel the power in Darcy and Skye, different as each was. Though perhaps the greatest shock was that Kathryn recognized Phil and Melinda… apparently she'd been their SO, back when she herself had been an agent of SHIELD!

It was absolutely insane, and they all knew that at some point something would have to give. Still, no one could have imagined how it'd happen, in the end.

It was completely accidental. Conan and Faolan, just like Fenrir in his youth, sometimes felt more comfortable in their wolf-skins than in human ones, so they spent a lot of time in those. It didn't stop Rowan, Rose and Zach from playing with them though; and everyone in town knew enough not to worry about the wolf-pups if they ever saw them frolicking around. The people in town… but not their visitors.

Ylva and Kira were wrapping up their kendo class and seeing their few students off, while Malia and Fenrir helped put things away. Loki and Nightingale were out, they taught several languages privately during the summer, which was coming to an end. The rest were still at their own jobs too. Cora, who was effectively still the stay-at-home mom, had gone to the super-market, trusting the others to keep an eye on the kids. It would have surprised no one to know that the children got impatient and decided to go ahead and start playing on what was effectively their backyard, on the edge of the reserve. The limits of the property weren't marked as such, but then again, in that area it was all Hale land (as in, it was legally theirs, and not just on the werewolf-territory way).

They all heard the van but paid it no mind. Over the past week the SHIELD team had been going around. And as nosy as they were, they weren't evil (the wards wouldn't have let them pass if they were), so no one really focused on that. Until the shouting started.

Malia got there first. The sound of a shot made Fenrir roar, and it took everything he had (and Ylva) to keep him from shifting into a wolf. That wouldn't have helped matters any. Kira ran out, in time to see her girlfriend fall to one knee, swaying a bit, yet still managing to keep her body in between the shooter and the children.

"Malia!" Kira cried out, rushing to her.

Hot as it was, the tops the girls wore were little more than bikinis. Kira immediately checked over Malia's back but there was no blood, no bullet-wound. Though she did notice some black lines, and a tiny disc that had caught on the waistline of her short-shorts.

"What the hell did you just shoot my girlfriend with?!" Kira demanded, wooden sword in hand, ready to fight for her family.

"It's not a bullet!" The brunette young woman standing next to the shooter began practically babbling. "It just… it knocks you out… the wolves were too close to the girls! He was just trying to protect them! He wasn't trying to hurt anyone!"

The icing on the cake was probably when Fenrir and Ylva finally stepped out, three children rushing to them, calling 'Mommy' and 'Daddy' (at least, unlike with the Hales in full-shift, the clothes didn't get 'lost' with them). Rose followed at a more sedate pace, three-year-old Zach holding her hand tightly. And then Malia stood, taking position beside Kira, moving enough to reveal the empty space she'd been covering.

"Wha… what?!" The brunette looked clearly at a loss.

"The boys." The man beside her, still holding the gun. "The older ones. It's them. They're the wolves. They're gifted."

"We all are." Kira stated, allowing just a bit of lighting to run all over her.

"Not like that's a crime or anything." Malia added, even as she flashed her blue eyes at them.

"No, it's not." The woman agreed, pushing down her partner's gun. "We're sorry."

The man just nodded as he put the gun away.

"My name is Grant Ward, I am an agent of SHIELD." He introduced himself. "This is my wife and partner: Skye. We really didn't mean to hurt anyone. Our team came here to investigate some supernatural phenomena. As the point of origin was the preserve, we've been investigating it, and we came across the children."

"We didn't know there were gifted in the area." Skye added for good measure.

"Why should you?" Malia shrugged. "It's not like its any of your business."

"My name is Kira, this is Malia." The Japanese American introduced the two of them. "The ones back there are Fenris and Ylva, and the children, whose names you don't really need to know."

She was being a tad confrontational, but that was understandable considering that, regardless of what the couple of agents might say, they'd still shot her girlfriend; the only reason she hadn't dropped unconscious or whatever was because of her coyote. Also, it was a bit of a miracle that the thing, drug, whatever in that 'bullet' hadn't had a negative reaction.

"Why couldn't the team, the first team, get in?" Skye asked all of a sudden.

We actually did a double-take at that, all of us, even her husband. Clearly no one at all had been expecting her to straight-out ask that.

"What?" She asked him with a shrug. "It's what we're trying to find out, and they might know the answer. We've been looking for a week now, and still nothing so… we have nothing to lose by asking them."

"What makes you think we know anything about it?" Fenrir asked, brow arched.

"I'm gifted too." She revealed easily enough, pointing a hand down, the earth rumbling a bit beneath all their feet. "I can sense the power in the earth in this area, its greater than almost anywhere else I've been."

"Almost?" Her husband asked quietly, though not enough for the pack not to pick up.

"San Juan, Afterlife, that old base in Arizona." She murmured back.

The answer meant nothing to them, though it clearly meant something to her partner.

"What's going on here?"

All eyes turned to the rest of the family as they joined the stand-off. It had been Stiles who'd spoken. Nightingale and Loki were there, standing back, not wanting to get involved unless it was absolutely necessary.

Malia explained in few words what had happened. Making sure to reassure the others that no one had been hurt, and that the agents didn't mean any harm (the last thing they needed was Derek going all Alpha on them). Stiles understood and nodded to them, taking charge.

"I am Deputy Stiles Stilinski-Hale." He introduced himself. "My husband, Derek is a deputy as well. The wards are my doing."

"Your doing?" Skye repeated, clearly not understanding.

"I dabble a bit in magic." He said with a shrug, making it seem less than it actually was. "The wards cover the entire city and are mostly passive."

"Mostly?" No one could have mistaken the edge on Ward's voice.

"Their purpose is to keep those who might do us harm, us or anyone else here in Beacon Hills really, out." Stiles explained. "If they wish ill to any of us, or simply have bad intentions coming here, they simply cannot enter."

"Why couldn't our team come in?" Skye inquired, clearly not getting it.

"That's something you should ask them, isn't it?" Stiles shrugged. "The fact that you could get through, shows that you have no bad intentions against us. The same clearly cannot be said for whoever else tried it before. And before you ask, no, I'm not taking down the wards. They've served us well to keep us and our town safe. They stay."

The agents said nothing else. They just promised to be careful and then took their leave. No one needed anyone else to say a word. They knew it wasn't over just yet.

 **xXx**

They waited until after dinner to tell the rest of the pack what they'd missed. None of the Hales missed the reaction a certain group had to the list of places.

"There was a big earthquake in Puerto Rico a few years ago." Nightingale explained first. "Many scientist tried to explain it, none ever could. The area isn't known for earthquakes. Loki believes it to have been a gifted."

"Perhaps someone with a connection to the earth…" Malia suggested, remembering clearly what Skye had done earlier that day.

"What about the other two?" Peter inquired.

"Afterlife… I doubt they mean truly life after death." Cora stated.

"Maybe it's some place, a kind of sanctuary." Kathryn suggested.

"And Arizona?" Derek asked.

"That we do know." Loki nodded. "We were there in 2011. Found an old Asgardian relic, a cube called the Tesseract. SHIELD had been playing with it for a while, not realizing how dangerous it truly was…" He scoffed before adding: "idiots."

"And let me guess, you relieved them of it." Noah knew them enough to guess correctly.

Loki and Nightingale nodded, unbothered by it. Truth was, it wasn't even the only time they'd done something like that. In 2015 the two of them had slipped away from the rest of the group while they were all still recovering from a recent encounter with a bunch of rogue omegas. The match had made it all the way to London just in time to seal and retrieve the Aether before Thor recovered from the fight with Malekith, and any of the others even thought about looking for it. Ever since, the two relics were kept in carefully occluded pocket dimensions; where they were sure others would never be able to access them.

"It's not like we intend to use it." Nightingale shrugged. "It's just better if they don't either."

Noah, and everyone else, nodded. Even if they didn't really know about the Tesseract or what it could do; they did understand that some things shouldn't be 'played with'.

"So what happens now?" Derek asked after a while.

"We wait." Loki nodded at him. "They will come back."

Yeah. If they were smart, the agents would find answers to their questions first. Starting with why exactly the first team had been unable to get through the wards when they'd had no problem. But still, sooner or later they'd be coming back…

 **xXx**

It ended up being later rather than sooner, but the moment the group stepped out of their two vehicles everyone knew exactly why.

"He's here," Stiles announced quietly, no need to shout when most people around had enhanced senses; though still in Polish, so as not to make the warning to obvious.

There were general nods from the family, they'd known it was a possibility, especially after two days passed and no one went knocking on their doors. They'd considered sending Cora and the children away, or at least up to the loft, for the duration of the meeting. Not running away, because they weren't the kind to run away, but to keep the children safe. And yet… a part of Loki wanted to believe that Thor still was his brother, that he wouldn't hurt him, hurt them. Especially since he himself had taken a human woman for his wife and had two children with her.

They didn't hide at all. Not like they ever had, or at least not since settling down in Beacon Hills. Even if Loki's leathers hinted towards blue rather than green, and his jeans and button up were nothing like his old breeches and tunic, Thor couldn't not recognize him. The same went for Ylva, even without her old pale-blue battle-dress, which she had changed for pale blue-jeans, a black cropped top and leather jacket; it was still her, the same pale blonde hair and blue eyes. She was still the Valkyrie who'd once helped train Sif, who'd chosen to risk the rejection of a whole world to join herself to the one she loves, her wolf, her Fenrir.

"Hello, brother." Loki greeted the blonde in the most provocative tone he could.

The Aesir exhaled, and suddenly his emotions were so strong that Nightingale couldn't help but sway in place. The mixture of shock, relief, joy and… love… it was almost enough to knock her off her feet. The reason became clear but a heartbeat later:

"You're alive…" He breathed out.

That certainly threw the family for a loop.

"Yes, I'm alive, we're all alive." Loki drawled. "What's the point?"

"We were told you were dead." Thor answered quietly. "Mother and I… Captain Brynjar told us that you were dead. That Father had sent them to recover you, but they were too late… that the Demon-Wolf had killed you and the Lady Ylva."

That left many speechless, except Nightingale; because she could never not defend her family.

"Really?" She challenged, stepping forward. "What excuse did he tell you for having to 'recover' Loki exactly?"

"My lady?" Thor didn't understand the question.

"No, let me guess." She went on. "Maybe he told you that he'd done some awful mischief and chose to run away from the consequences, that he ended putting himself in danger somehow. And because he's a wonderful father he sent his best warriors to recover his wayward son." No one could possibly miss the sarcasm drowning her every word. "That's a load of bullshit!"

"My lady!" The blonde Aesir was beyond shocked. "Who are you?"

"My name is Silbhé Arianna Kinross Salani-Hvedrungr." She chose to state her full legal name, before adding. "Though you may call me Nightingale."

"The Lady Nightingale…?!" Thor gasped.

"That's me." She nodded, staring straight at him. "Tell me Thor, will you hold on to lies, or do you want to know the truth?"

For several seconds not a word was said, and no one knew for sure what would happen next, and then Thor made his choice:

"Tell me the truth, please…"

With a wave of Loki's hand, there were suddenly chairs all around the room, enough for all of them to take a seat. Because the story was long, and he just knew some people (Thor especially) weren't going to like what they'd hear. Loki himself had spent more than a decade anxious about the moment when he'd meet his brother again, not knowing what to expect. It certainly hadn't been "You're alive" and the feelings he'd been able to read in his brother's eyes, even before learning what his match could sense from him… so he wasn't quite sure what to expect anymore. He did know something though, and it was that the truth needed to be said.

"I met Loki when I was eleven-years old." Nightingale began, easily. "When Loki stepped out of the Shadow Paths and into my back-garden without stopping to check first that it was empty. He didn't notice me until it was already too late." She giggled at the memory. "He never told me who he was, I found that by myself. We became friends… not sure why actually. I'd never been good at making friends, but with him it all just felt so… natural. I almost died of cancer when I was 14. He saved me. He created a set of bracelets, I call them deamarkonian, because he got the idea from a book I was reading at the time." She willed the bracelet in question to be seen. "It allows us to share our life-energy. Since his is obviously greater than my own, I get a greater benefit. The primary one, the reason the bracelets were created at all; is that his energy fights off the cancer in me. I'm effectively living with cancer, as if I'd been cured, though I haven't, not really. Later on we found another side-effect: I can wield his magic." To prove the moment she conjured a small blade, twirling it in between her fingers a few times before vanishing it again. "When I was seventeen years old I was in Chicago with my aunt. I was invited to participate in a scholarly event, it was a great opportunity, as I was studying for my Masters at the time…"

"At seventeen?!" Darcy interrupted, before suddenly seemingly noticing something. "You're the genius girl from Norwich!"

"That's me." Nightingale smiled at her, not bothered at all by the interruption, before continuing "I saw Mischief there."

"That'd be me." Stiles called out. "Name is Stiles's Stilinski-Hale." He gave a stink-eye at the agents. "And while I have no doubt one or more of you might have been able to hack my records and gotten my actual birth-name, we're not mentioning it right now. For all intents and purposes, my names is Stiles. Nightingale calls me Mischief, because it's something my mother did, and she saw that; we first met in New York back when both she and my mom were being treated for cancer. In search of a cure. She's the only one I allow to call me that. Everyone else either calls me Stiles, or Raven. Which is what the supernatural community calls me, the bird that hunts with wolves… it's also my spirit animal."

He was babbling, and he knew it, so he forced himself to shut up before he gave anything truly important away.

"Right." Nightingale smiled at him understanding. "Raven and I went out that night, did the touristy thing. Loki joined us. We were having a great time. And then Ylva and Fenrir arrived in a hurry. Eihenjer were after us, and they got there just in time to warn us. Barely in fact, because the soldiers dropped in on us not even five minutes later. So we ran. We split up, Loki, Ylva and Fenrir trying to keep the Eihenjer from Raven and I. They caught up to us eventually and then… I don't even know how it happened exactly. I knew Raven had magical potential, had felt it in him from the start. Still wasn't expecting it when he just looked at me and told me, with absolute certainty, that the soldiers wouldn't find us… and they didn't. Even when they walked right past us, no more than a few feet away, they didn't see us. Still, the danger was too great. So we saw Raven back to the hotel, warned Aunt Kathryn of what had happened, and then we fled. All four of us. Spent the next several years running."

"Wait, just, wait a second." Skye interrupted. "Why were they after you anyway?"

"Because I knew too much." The auburn-haired woman answered with a bitter smile.

"What…?" Skye just didn't understand.

"The Allfather just hates when he doesn't have complete control of things." Nightingale stated evenly. "He sees Earth as a primitive planet, us humans as little more than beasts. He really didn't like that I knew Loki, knew the truth about him. So he sent his soldiers…"

"What would…?" Darcy hesitates, as if unsure if she even wanted to know the answer to her question. "If they had found you that night, what would have happened to you?"

"Best case scenario?" Nightingale replied. "I would have lost any and all memories concerning him. Which means I'd have left been left with huge wholes in my brain regarding the previous six years. If that hadn't destroyed me? I still wouldn't be the person I am now."

And they so weren't going into the worst case scenario, no way.

"What happened afterwards?" Phil inquired, knowing most were still trying to process what the hazel-eyed woman had just said, and the implications of what she hadn't.

"We spent several years going around the world, just keeping on the move." Nightingale said with a shrug. "Since Ylva freed Fenrir and the two went against any possible orders they couldn't really go back to Asgard either, so it was the four of us. Until Raven called us and asked us for help." She made a pause, as if considering how much she should reveal exactly. "Things were happening and he asked for our help, and of course we came."

"Just what's with this town?" Skye asked right then. "Because really. I've gone through old newspapers: animal attacks; sports-stars that are declared dead then they aren't; freaky storms, suspicious deaths; a girl sent to the psychiatric hospital by her mother only to be pulled out by her husband, who apparently was living in another country?!"

"Yeah, there's some freaky stuff." Stiles actually scratched the back of his head at that. "We did our best to handle it, didn't always manage. Things got pretty bad in early December of 2012… that was when I called Nightingale and asked for their help. They got here as fast as they could, and we dealt with things. Then we left."

"You left too." Ward said, it wasn't a question.

"Me, Der, Cora, Peter." Stiles enlisted. "We were just tired of everything, needed some time off. And we liked it. Traveling with Nightingale, Loki, Fenrir and Ylva. It was good. We had fun, made a lot of friends all over the world…"

Most of those people involved with the supernatural of course. Like Vivian, the alpha of the loup-garou pack in Eastern Europe, her human mate Aiden and their daughter… or, closer to home, the pack living in North Washington, who all happened to be native-americans. Of course there was the Halliwell family in San Francisco, the 'Flowers' in the outskirts of Mexico City… Yeah, they had definitely enjoyed the travels.

"Why did you come back?" Phil was curious.

"We always planned to come back." Stiles shrugged a bit. "It's not like we ever expected to keep hoping from city to city for our whole lives. Or that we never expected to have actual lives after we left. Cora and I got our high-school diplomas, I took classes online; and we even managed to stay in a single place long enough for both Nightingale and I to finish our college education. It was after that, that we got to planning our return. As it happened, things were going down again right here. We ended returning right in the middle of it all."

"I saw that too." Skye nodded. "More than a dozen dead, and a good deal more missing. Some turned out to have run away, but some haven't been found, dead or alive, even today."

"Yeah… it was a bad time." Stiles nodded quietly. "We did our best but… too much had already happened by the time we got back to town. Too many people we weren't able to save…"

"Why you?" Darcy asked, curious.

"Because this is our territory." Derek stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

They'd talked about it after the meeting with the agents, that if the guardians of the wards considered them worthy enough to get through, then they could know the truth. Also, Kathryn, Noah and Peter all agreed that if they were truly trustworthy, it might be a good thing to have at least a few people in an organization as powerful as SHIELD know the truth and possibly even be willing to help if things ever got insane again (which they were hoping would never happen, with the Hales in charge, but still).

What followed was a pretty detailed explanation of the supernatural in general, werewolves in particular and the Hale Pack most specifically. Though not before extracting a sworn magically binding oath from the SHIELD Agents that nothing they heard in that meeting would make it back to the organization. That one had puzzled the men more than the women (though them being gifted might explain that).

"Why are you so insistent on that?" Ward eventually asked.

"Tell me Agent Ward." Peter stated in his most sober tone. "Have you investigated the little mystery my packmates gave you? About the team of yours that couldn't make it into town?"

"We have." Phil answered in his place. "Haven't found anything yet."

"That's liable to be more due to you not having looked in the right places, rather than there being nothing to find." Peter replied with a twisted grin.

"What makes you so sure about that?" Darcy inquired.

It wasn't that she disagreed with Peter, not quite. Jasper Sitwell had lead that team, and she knew the man was a snob and very much against gifted like mutants and inhumans (there was a reason why he wasn't allowed on any mission with the Wards, and why he didn't even know about Darcy's status at all). Still, she was curious about the man's certainty.

"Because I trust the wards to be right." Peter answered honestly. "We all do."

They trusted Stiles's judgment, and it was his will that controlled the wards, so if his magic believed someone shouldn't be allowed into Beacon Hills, they wouldn't.

"We'll look into it." Phil promised, and they definitely would.

The story took several hours. They went into as much detail as they dared, though aside from their own names, and those of some who'd passed away already, or whom the agents themselves had connected all on their own (like Lydia), they gave them none of those.

When it was all over no one seemed to know quite what to say. It was all so fantastical… it was likely that if they hadn't been Agents of SHIELD and been used to freaky things they wouldn't have believed a word of it.

They finished the story with the explanation of the wards, a very vague recount of the growth of the pack and their territory, and a very small mention of the children. That caught Thor's attention like nothing else had:

"Brother…" He didn't actually voice a question, but it was obvious in his eyes.

Loki said nothing, just waved a hand, which was enough of a signal for a certain chocolate-eyed, dark auburn haired six-year-old who'd been practically vibrating in place for the past minute as she waited to be allowed to move. She rushed around her parents, from where Cora, Kira and Malia had been keeping her and the other children together. She was wearing a very pretty floral dress and green shoes, and her smile was bright as she stopped before Thor.

"Hello Uncle Thor." She called to him, waving her hand for good measure. "I am Rose Alfdis Lokidottir, Nightingaledottir."

Everyone in the family could still remember when she'd asked them how her name would be said in Asgard, explaining that she wanted to know how to introduce herself when the time came… that had been before the warning had come about the first SHIELD team trying to get through the wards… she'd known all along that moment would come. Loki just shook his head, he probably should have expected something like that. Nightingale just giggle quietly beside him.

"Well met Rose Alfdis." Thor greeted her very formally, though with a huge smile, showing how seriously he took her words even as he felt all the joy. "You're very much your father's daughter."

"Thank you." She nodded primly.

The Hales just couldn't help themselves anymore by that point. They broke into laughter.

 **xXx**

When Thor and the Agents left that night, the King of Asgard promised to visit again one day, and to bring along his wife and boys when he did. Phil also reiterated his promise that no one in SHIELD would know about them. Truth was, ever since his near-death during a mission in Malta back in 2013, Phil had had his doubts about SHIELD. That had not just been any mission he was on, classified beyond top-secret, no one except his wife, Fury and Pierce were even supposed to know about it. Yet they'd known he'd be there, they'd known, had tried to assassinate him… and almost succeeded. They would have, if Destiny hadn't told Darcy about the danger to him and she'd made the choice to call in some favors and follow him to Malta without telling anyone about it, not even Fury.

The thing with Sitwell and his team… that was only the latest in a long list of things that just did not sit right with him. He'd been suspicious first with the whole thing with Centipede, but they had never found the so-called Clairvoyant… perhaps it was time they went looking for him again. He would make it a special mission, the kind he wasn't planning on reporting to HQ until they were done…

It was that decision that would eventually lead them to discover about the snake hiding in the grass… or the HYDRA within SHIELD. Aided also by one man choosing his wife and the family of choice that was their team over the man he'd once believed to be his chosen father… though that wouldn't happen for almost a year. Afterwards Phil would send a message to the Hales, thanking them, no details would be given, but then again, they wouldn't be needed either.

For a while after their guests left no one seemed to know quite what to say; and it wasn't even the guests themselves. No, it was that until that day, as they'd told their story, whole and without interruptions, they'd all realized exactly what all they'd done, what they'd gone through; the good and the bad, the successes and failures; all they had lost, but more importantly, all they'd won. It was Rose who reacted first; she began humming a melody, a new one, very basic; though her eyes were fixed straight on her mom, who knew what was next: and so she began singing:

"Legends never die when the world is calling you

Can you hear them screaming out your name?

Legends never die, they become a part of you

Every time you bleed for reaching greatness

Relentless you survive"

"They never lose hope when everything's cold and the fighting's near

It's deep in their bones, they'll run into smoke when the fire is fierce

Oh pick yourself up, 'cause"

"Legends never die when the world is calling you

Can you hear them screaming out your name?

Legends never die, they become a part of you

Every time you bleed for reaching greatness

Legends never die"

Singing was something special for Nightingale, ever since she'd first done it, created a song to express herself when she couldn't find the words to say it in a more… traditional way. Many of her songs were about Loki and her love for him, it's so huge she's sure she'd never find enough words to describe it. Then again, she honestly believed love to be limitless, so maybe she just wasn't meant to ever finish, and she was just fine with that. Aside from that, at least one of her songs was about her daughter (daughters?). She'd never fully understood that part, she and Loki only had one child, and she was quite sure they'd never have another and yet… she'd dreamt another girl, one who looked so much like her papa, yet was so much like her. The light of their lives… Finally there were the songs she'd written since meeting the pack. First Mischief, then the Hales, and the rest of the pack… they're important to her, they're as much her family as her aunt Kathryn is, and she believes her songs express that even when she has trouble saying it outright.

"They're written down in eternity

But you'll never see the price it costs

The scars collected all their lives"

"When everything's lost, they pick up their hearts and avenge defeat

Before it all starts, they suffer through harm just to touch a dream

Oh pick yourself up, 'cause"

"Legends never die when the world is calling you

Can you hear them screaming out your name?

Legends never die, they become a part of you

Every time you bleed for reaching greatness

Legends never die"

No one said a word as the song went on. Everyone just loved hearing Nightingale sing. Even the children; even the triplets at their fuzziest would stop and quiet down completely the moment the singing started. Rose herself didn't sing, not yet, but she was good at humming, at carrying the tune her mom would follow. The others were convinced that once she was ready her voice would be magnificent, just like her Mama's… Loki loved them both so much, just like he loved his other child, even if he was aware how terrible a father he'd been to her, and had no idea how to connect with her anymore. Hel had long since made her own life, and Loki respected that… though he still hoped that one day they might get another chance. He was sure she'd love Rose, and hopefully she'd give Nightingale a chance, so they might some day all be a real family…

"When the world is calling out your name

Begging you to fight

Pick yourself up once more

Pick yourself up, 'cause"

"Legends never die when the world is calling you

Can you hear them screaming out your name?

Legends never die, they become a part of you

Every time you bleed for reaching greatness

Legends never die"

They knew not many understood it, even among packs, even in their own pack… what the Hales were, it went beyond any understanding of pack; beyond any understanding of family too. Derek knew that was why he'd had such a hard time of it. He wasn't his mother, or Laura, didn't have any of their knowledge, or instincts to be the kind of alpha either of them had been, and his first pack had had no familial connection to him (other than Peter, but they'd been such a mess back then…). The only other example he had of an alpha were those he and Laura had met in Texas and in New York… the kind that ruled by fear rather than love and loyalty. He hadn't liked it. He knew he'd made a lot of mistakes as an alpha, not knowing how to better handle things, and then he'd lost them: Erica and Boyd to death, and Issac had left him (Scott didn't count, he'd never been pack). It was the greatest irony that the one person he'd never sought to make pack (more because he didn't dare, didn't want to tie him down in such a way, not when he was meant to be human and have a chance at making a life away from the insanity of werewolves and the like, rather than because he didn't want him) was the one person who'd chosen him, who'd stayed, through thick and thing and everything in between. His mate, his raven…

Stiles… the boy with the soul of a raven, one willing to run (or fly) and hunt with wolves. He'd changed everything, not just for Derek and the Hales, but also for Nightingale and everyone else. He'd connected them, when otherwise, chances were they'd have never met. He was their point of connection, and from then on everything had changed, for the better, for all of them. There was no way of knowing for sure what would have become of any of them if they'd never come together, if Stiles hadn't made that phone-call to Nightingale that day. One thing was for sure though, life wouldn't be what it was, and they were perfectly happy with their current life. There in Beacon Hills, with their beautiful house, and their good friends, their great extended family, and of course the children. How could they ask for anything more?

* * *

So that's that for now. I hope you enjoyed the fic, it's my first time dipping into the Teen Wolf fandom. There was a lot I didn't like from the latter seasons, but I liked the earlier ones. Especially Stiles and Derek. I do believe they had a lot of potential but it was lost in between one of the actors leaving and the fact that some people clearly are willing to use ships to bait fans but don't have the guts to actually go ahead and make it official. That's okay, that's what fanfics are for anyway!

In three weeks, the next AU! A One-Shot (I have a lot of those this time around). A branching-out from _Banshee_. What if, when Nightingale asked Gamora to take her voice, the 'daughter' of Thanos (and future Guardian of the Galaxy) had made a different choice? Stars may fall but they will never stop shining!


End file.
